Weak Spot
by Evil Amplified
Summary: As if surviving hell hadn’t been hard enough, dealing with the aftermath and a brother who couldn’t accept him was almost too much for any Winchester to take.
1. Wounds

_**Summary:** As if surviving hell hadn't been hard enough, dealing with the aftermath and a brother who couldn't accept him was almost too much for any Winchester to take._

_**Author's Note:**__ Just a little post Season 3 fic that deals with life after hell for Dean Winchester. Was inspired by the episode Mystery Spot and how Sam acted after Dean's death was caused by the Trickster. I promise you all that I really love Sammy even if he does play the ass for part of this fic. Characters featured are Dean, Sam and Bobby. Rated T for language, language, oh and more language not to mention some seriously bloody torture._

_And for all of my readers waiting for an update on my Charmed story please be patient. I hit a brick wall on it and had to do something to get over my writer's block so I started something new and different. Please forgive me._

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**Chapter 1: Wounds**

"Sam, when are you gonna stop by again?" Bobby asked automatically. He had asked the same question every time he had managed to speak to the young hunter during the last year and the answer had always been the same.

"When I'm not busy, Bobby," Sam answered in a dull lifeless voice.

"Sam, you can't keep going like this forever, son," came the older man's reply. "You're walking a very dangerous tightrope and sooner or later you are gonna fall."

"I'm just doing the job," Sam replied sighing deeply in exasperation. He had heard this same lecture from Bobby too many times now already.

"This is about a lot more than the job, kid, and you know it." Bobby had watched his young friend, the only person he had left that he considered family, slowly but surely cut himself off from every thing he cared for in life. None of the contacts they shared had heard from Sam since his brother's death. Not Pastor Jim or Deacon or any of John's other contacts. Ellen had even rebuilt the Roadhouse but neither she nor Jo had seen or heard from the last surviving Winchester. Bobby seemed to be the only one that Sam would even answer a phone call from, and Bobby suspected that he only did so to gain information about the demons that followed Lilith.

"No, Bobby, this is all about the job. There is nothing else." With that the phone clicked off and Bobby murmured a curse at once again blowing a chance to somehow get through the walls that the boy had built around his heart.

His thoughts then turned to the one they had lost. To Bobby the Winchester boys had been as close as he'd ever get to having sons himself. He knew he could never replace John but they had still made room in their hearts for him after they had lost their father. For that Bobby had been ultimately grateful. But to lose one of them had showed him a depth of grief that he had never even imagined possible and there had been more than a few times in the past year that he had cursed himself for caring so much for the cocky young martyr.

He had always thought he'd be the one whose bones they would have to burn someday. But a year ago on this very day he and Sam had stood by the pyre and watched helplessly as the flames consumed one of their own. And neither of them had been the same since.

He had had faith that they'd somehow find a way to save Dean. Hell, he would have offered his own soul in trade if he thought the demon bitch would have taken it. But what the hell would she want with the soul of an old washed up hunter like him? Nothing, that's what.

He wondered though if Lilith had realized just what she was in for when she took Dean away from his brother. Sure the older brother had been Sam's weak spot but now that he was gone Sam had become a near unstoppable hunter. No demon was safe from his wrath, and he was systematically working his way through her ranks like they posed no threat whatsoever to him, and for the most part they didn't. He still had Ruby's knife and he had memorized every exorcism he could find.

Not to mention the fact that since the day that Lilith failed to kill him no demonic power seemed to work against the young hunter. Oh, he felt pain and he bled the same as any human, but no demonic power could hold any sway over him. He seemed to be immune to it all. That in a way comforted Bobby, or at least it worried him less seeing as Sam was out there alone. But he also worried that Sam's newfound confidence in his own abilities would someday lead to his downfall and the idea of losing him too was more than the old hunter could stand.

Bobby's thoughts were pierced by a loud banging noise outside and the barking of one of his hound dogs and he found himself standing next to his front window peering through the darkness outside. He could see the newest of his hounds standing next to the front fence and the dog was barking wildly at something slumped against the chain link. The old hunter instinctively found his hand wrapping around the sawed off sitting next to the door, which was kept full of rock salt at all times, and within seconds he had crept from the house and was quietly making his way towards the downed figure.

He could see very little movement coming from the lump of flesh and tattered clothing as he approached it but in the darkness there was no telling what evils might be trying to trick him into lowering his guard. "Whoever you are, I might suggest you get up and move along, if'n you want to keep your head attached to your shoulders that is. This ain't no place to be squattin'."

The form moved ever so slightly and tilted its face into the moonlight giving a small smile that wasn't quite as bright as it normally would have been. "I'm afraid moving along at this point is just too much for me right now, Bobby," his voice came out strained and cracking as if it had been overused quite recently.

"Holy Mother Mary," Bobby called out in utter surprise but hesitated only a second as he brought the shotgun up in a more serious posture ready to use it if necessary. "Whatever the hell you are, you better be gone, now!"

For a brief moment they stared at each other, neither breaking eye contact, but finally the figure on the ground groaned slightly and let his gaze drift to the dirt before him. "Damn, wasn't a year in hell enough punishment?" he whispered trying to get his arms underneath him so he could rise and leave.

Bobby had just barely caught the whispered phrase and he couldn't help swallowing hard as the tone of voice sounded so much like the one he'd lost. "You aren't him. You can't be," he whispered back more to convince himself that he had to move, had to take action against whatever creature was torturing him like this.

The intruder had managed to get up to his hands and knees but doing so cost him dearly as he started panting from the exertion he had put forth and he had to stop moving for a moment as everything started to swim before his eyes. Maybe he shouldn't have tried to climb over the fence. The actual climb hadn't been so hard but the eight-foot drop on the other side had been a real bitch, especially the landing. His forehead dropped to the dirt as he waited for everything to stop spinning again. After his breathing had slowed he managed to answer the unasked question in his former friend's voice. "If I'm not me then I don't exactly know who the hell I am. But whoever I am needs a strong drink, about eighty hours sleep and for god's sake food. Damn, I've forgotten what a cheeseburger even tastes like."

Bobby paled at the statement knowing it was something Dean would have said to him in any similar situation. His penchant for thinking with his stomach was almost as famous as the one that thought with another body part slightly south of that stomach. He licked his lips nervously as he stared down to the figure that was so familiar. He knew he should just fill it with rock salt, and chock it up to some demon's sick idea of a joke, but his hands had started shaking and he knew how impossible it would be to pull the trigger unless he was sure. He had to be positive. If there was any way in hell that this was his boy… god, his boy. When had that thought slipped into the heart he had tried to deaden with hours upon hours of alcohol-induced numbness?

He knew he had to make a decision. Either kill it or give it a chance to kill him. But wasn't the chance worth the risk? If it was Dean… it was worth all the risk in the world wasn't it?

"You think you can make it to the house, idjit?" he asked using the familiar nickname that he used for both his boys.

A large relieved sigh erupted from the downed figure and he pushed himself up slowly grabbing the fence and using it to pull himself to a standing position. He leaned heavily against the chain link not caring that the metal was cutting into the open wounds on his back. He took only a moment to draw on his reserve energy as he glanced at the shotgun still pointed at his chest. Well at least it was only rock salt. It might sting like hell but it wouldn't kill him for sure.

He pushed away from the fence not making any sudden movements, as if his body would allow it anyway, and then moved towards the house with cautious easy strides on legs that felt as if they'd forgotten how to walk. He could feel Bobby's glare on his back as he moved forward and knew the shotgun was surely still trained on him. Any other time before his death, and Bobby would have been next to him holding him up as they both rushed together towards the relative safety of the only permanent home either of them had known. But things would be different now. He had expected it. After all he wasn't even supposed to exist anymore was he? Oh how he wished nothing had changed. It would be a nice change to have someone to lean on again.

Once inside the house he moved slowly into the den making sure to cross through the devil's trap he knew was drawn on the ceiling there. He didn't bother to look back at the older hunter, who he was sure would be wearing an astonished look. There wasn't a demon that they knew of that could cross through that circle and not be trapped and Dean had just walked right on through until he reached one of the beat up overstuffed couches that he and his brother had slept on from time to time during their visits to 'Uncle' Bobby's. He let his tired and aching body sink into its soft comfort and his eyes shut on a contented smile. He felt a moment of pain shoot through his back as raw skin touched leather through his torn shirt but he pushed it from his mind more concerned with his need for rest and nourishment.

The room was completely silent for one tense moment until he let his eyelids rise wearily again to gaze at Bobby's almost concerned features. Just almost though. There was still doubt, he could see it. "Can I have something to drink, Bobby?"

The older hunter nodded and began to back out of the room, but stopped uncertainly as he considered his next move. "You want a beer, kid?"

Dean smiled knowing that Bobby laced his beers with holy water just in case any unknown came visiting. "I'd settle for the flask of holy water you got in your pocket. It'll produce the same results you are looking for, and I have to admit I'm sorta craving water. It sure was scarce where I've been."

Bobby's eyebrows shot up in surprise and he made a sound that sounded like a cross between a snort and the words "I bet." But just as Dean had suggested he pulled the flask of holy water from his pocket and tossed it towards the youngster. He hadn't yet lowered the shotgun and he felt sort of silly holding it on someone who sure as hell looked and acted like Dean.

Dean unscrewed the cap and before drinking raised it in a mock salute towards the older hunter then downed the contents in one large swallow. At first the liquid burnt through his unused throat and he started to sputter as a small amount found its way into his windpipe.

Bobby saw the reaction and felt a painful pang in his heart, knowing that he had somehow wanted to believe that this was Dean, but that reaction could only mean one thing. He moved closer drawing the shotgun bead in on the chest of the creature he knew he'd have to kill.

But before he could pull the trigger a weak hand came up in a begging motion and his voice again was heard once the coughing was under control. "Hey wait… Not burning, I promise. Just forgot how to swallow is all. Went down my windpipe." The words came out disjointed but Bobby could see there was no steam accompanying the coughing fit. "Believe me, give me a gallon of the stuff and I'll lick the bottom dry right about now."

He continued to stare at the young man on his couch for a moment and then made a decision. "I'll get you some more to drink and something to eat, then…" His words cut off, not sure what else he had planned to say.

"I know, then we'll see," Dean answered for him and leaned his head back tilting the flask trying to draw any last drops that might be left in it onto his parched tongue. The few drops there only managed to increase his thirst. He wondered if he'd ever be able to quench his thirst again.

Bobby lowered the shotgun but did not lay it down just yet as he wondered off to the kitchen. When he returned his visitor was half sitting half lying slumped to the side on the couch with his eyes closed. He had pulled an old worn out throw from the back of the couch and was huddled underneath which seemed odd to Bobby considering the temperature outside had to be somewhere in the eighties, but then again after a year in hell up here had to seem like the arctic circle to the kid. Damnit there he was again thinking of him as Dean. That just wasn't possible.

"Hey, wake up sleeping beauty. Got ya some iced tea and food," he said kicking at the young man's leg.

He came to with a start and for just a moment Bobby could see total and utter terrified panic in his eyes but just as quickly as it had showed itself the emotion was gone replaced by a dull lifeless gaze. "Thanks," he said pushing himself up and reaching out for the large glass of sweet tea and plate full of sandwiches in Bobby's hands. He wondered for a moment if Bobby had laced the tea with holy water but didn't honestly care as he gulped down some of the cool liquid. This time he did not choke and emptied half the glass before he stopped drinking.

"If you really haven't had anything to drink or eat in a while you better slow down. You'll be sick in no time at that rate," Bobby pointed out sitting across from him on the arm of another couch with the shotgun resting across his lap.

Dean glanced down at the sandwich he had just picked up and was eyeing greedily. "Since when does food make me sick, Bobby?" he asked with a little bit of the old devil may care Dean in his voice. "Besides at this point it'd be worth it."

"Just saying," Bobby answered and watched as the young man tore into the first sandwich, which was resting on top of the other four on the plate.

After chewing for a few seconds Dean swallowed hard and made a face. "Ugh, Bobby, rock salt on ham. Do you want me to chip a tooth?" he asked running his tongue along the line of his teeth checking for any permanent damage.

"Just had to check. The other four are normal," Bobby answered a little bit more confident now that the young man had passed three demon tests.

Dean smiled and picked up another of the sandwiches and scarfed it down along with the rest of the iced tea but as soon as he was done his stomach began to ache and he didn't go for another sandwich. Bobby had sat silently watching him and Dean couldn't take it anymore. "Listen, let me make this easy on you. I can't be a demon. No demon could cross the devil's trap without any effect whatsoever. The rock salt would have destroyed a spirit. I'm pretty sure I'm not a thought form. I mean you and Sam are the only ones that would want me back bad enough to conjure me and I doubt either of you would be that stupid. Skin changer…" he paused for a moment.

Bobby waited for him to continue but could see the serious thought running through his mind with no words coming to mind. "So, how do you disprove that one, idjit?"

He looked up and scowled. "I'm thinking. Give me a moment. I sure as hell ain't gonna let you shoot me in the heart with no silver bullet if that's what you're thinking."

Bobby chuckled and had to admit the thought was crossing his mind. "Well, I believe that silver should still affect a skin changer somewhat even if it doesn't pierce his heart."

Dean looked him square in the eye and waited expectantly. Bobby took out one of two matching silver knives he kept hidden in a side pocket on the couch and tossed it across the room. It landed in the wall right above the young man's head, which brought his eyebrows up in surprise. "If you were aiming for me your aim is worse than I remember."

The older hunter's face turned slightly sour at the insult but did not speak as he waited for the young one to pull the knife from the wall. For an instant worry flowed through him as the Dean looking thing hesitated. Had he caught him at his own game? He watched carefully as the youngster eyed the knife and his shirtsleeve that he hadn't pulled up yet. Something was going through that mind and Bobby wondered if he should be reaching for the other knife about then, but it seemed as if whatever was worrying him subsided as he laid the knife in his lap and then unbuttoned the sleeve of his shirt and started to roll it up.

Bobby couldn't hold back the gasp that left his lips as he saw numerous deep gashes, some not even near healed, lining his arm from wrist to elbow. As he picked up the knife it was hard to decide exactly where to make the cut. There wasn't much unmarred flesh left to use. He finally decided on a two inch section on the inside of his forearm that was relatively untouched and closed his eyes as he drew the knife along the skin cutting deep and letting bright red blood flow freely.

He hadn't been watching Bobby as he did this and was surprised to see the older man suddenly appear in front of him kneeling on the floor, his hands groping towards the young hunter pulling back tattered cloth to reveal so many more wounds that were in various stages of healing. "My god, boy, why didn't you say you were hurt this bad?" In the instant that he saw that knife pierce Dean's skin Bobby had known. He didn't have to see his reaction. He knew that this was Dean, the boy he had thought he'd lost forever. The shotgun had slipped to the floor and the second silver knife had been forgotten. All he could think of was taking care of the young man and never letting anything happen to him again.

Dean though felt a sudden moment of panic as Bobby's hands descended on his skin. It was just too eerily familiar to the months he had spent with god knows how many demons pawing, and clawing at his already tattered body, ripping him to pieces only to have that bitch return and put him back together again over and over so her pets could enjoy the sport she had provided them. A small whimper escaped his lips and his hands grabbed Bobby's holding them still but not forcing him away.

Bobby glanced at his face and saw that look of panic return there, something he had never imagined on the face of this Winchester. Not Dean. He was the strong one. The one that had held the makeshift family together, the one that gave them all the strength to carry on when things were too hard. But now it was he that needed their strength and he needed it worse than any of them could ever imagine. What had they done to him? What kind of sick revenge had that demon bitch concocted against the only Winchester she could get her filthy hands on? "It's okay, son. I'm not gonna hurt you. I just want to help. These wounds need some serious tending," he said in as soft a voice as he could muster.

After a moment or so the stoic mask that he was used to with Dean slipped back on his face and he took a deep breath and let go of Bobby's hands. His face then adopted a mischievous look, which was accompanied by a quirky smile. "Well you did buy me dinner so I guess I should at least let you cop a feel. Just don't get too handsy there. I don't normally swing that way."

Bobby couldn't help the smile that cracked his lips at that statement. That was the Dean he knew, always coming up with the wisecracks and lifting everyone else's spirits by doing so. But even if he could smile at the thought it didn't change what he had seen in those eyes a moment before. Dean was wounded in more than just his body and it would likely take most of his life to get past everything that had been done to him. "Funny, smart-ass! Come on, let's get you sitting up so I can get these cloths off and take a look at your wounds."

Dean looked up at his friend, the friend he had wished for, the one who would hold him up when he was falling down and he felt a wave of relief wash over him but he couldn't just obey blindly. That wouldn't be Dean, and he had to be Dean no matter how much it hurt inside. "You know, Bobby, you are seriously beginning to scare me dude. No guy has ever tried to get into my pants this hard before in my life."

Bobby wasn't gonna let the youngster have the last jab though. "I don't know, Dean. If you'd dress a little nicer and wear some make up some times you might get more offers."

Dean scowled not liking the fact that his friend had not been floored by his risqué wit and had actually managed a decent come back on him. He must be losing his touch. "Bobby, bite me!"

By then Bobby had managed to get Dean into a position where he could get his shirt off and had just stripped it from the youngster and tossed the blood smeared cloth to the floor. He'd be sure to burn it later along with the pants he would somehow wrangle the young hunter out of soon enough. He glanced at several of the wounds and breathed deeply seeing skin that was mottled with old and new scars alike. Some of the wounds themselves looked infected and there was no doubt in his mind that the cold the man was feeling was probably due to the infection setting in. "Looks to me like someone else has beat me too that. Are these teeth marks?" he asked in concern seeing several sets of fang impressions running up his ribcage.

"Probably," Dean answered his voice losing the jovial tone of a moment before. "It's sort of hard to remember it all. There's just too much to process right now."

'Right now? Try forever,' Bobby answered silently in his mind. He didn't want to bring Dean's apparent lack of strength to light until he thought the young man was ready to deal with it and he'd need his brother if he were ever going to manage to get passed all this. That was the one thing Bobby was sure of.

"Listen, Bobby, don't tell Sam about this," Dean's voice came out softly as he glanced down at the floor motioning to the wounds covering his body.

Bobby was slightly surprised at that. The Winchesters had been patching up each other's wounds for years now. Why wouldn't Dean want Sam to know he was injured? "Why?"

Dean didn't speak immediately but let a sad sigh escape his lips. "I just… it's just… well damnit, you know he's gonna blame himself if he knows."

Bobby nodded agreeing with that statement. It would be a hard blow for any man to know he had inadvertently caused so much damage to his own brother. "Fine, I won't say a word. I've got some long sleeve shirts that are dark in color, so at least the blood won't show up so bad, but you will still need to be taken care of. A lot of those wounds look infected."

He found the medical kit he always kept nearby and began to work on cleaning and bandaging the wounds. There were a few that he would have to stitch and those were the ones he most feared dealing with. He knew how painful it would be and hadn't Dean already been through enough pain? But there was no fighting it. So he prepared the needle and thread he'd need and got ready to do his worst. But Dean's voice stilled his hand just as it drew near. "Are you sure about me, Bobby?" his voice asked hesitantly. "I mean really sure. You are taking an awful big risk trusting me."

Bobby wandered what had brought on the question but no matter what he would assure him of his worth. "I think it's a risk well worth taking, and besides, of course I'm sure, ya idjit."

Dean smiled at the answer but couldn't just leave it at that. Bobby was sure, but how sure was he really? "Maybe you oughta spout out one of those exorcism chants while you work here, just to be one hundred percent positive."

"Boy, I don't need that," Bobby came back with in complete confusion but then it struck him. Maybe Dean did. Maybe he was just as confused and scared as Bobby himself had been when he first found him. "Yeah, okay. Just to be sure," he gave in concentrating on the task at hand as he spoke a random exorcism he had memorized years before. The Latin words came to him like they were second nature as his hands deftly started to stitch some of the deeper wounds. It didn't escape him how Dean also muttered the words under his own breath as if they were a mantra that could keep his mind off the pain of the stitching.

Bobby had worked his way through five chants and over a hundred and twenty stitches by the time the task was complete and it wasn't hard to see tiny beads of sweat standing out on Dean's forehead. He hadn't made one sound during the ordeal and that worked to frighten Bobby even worse. How much pain and agony had the young man faced to be able to withstand that kind of treatment without even one sound escaping his lips? It must have been horrendous.

Once Bobby had managed to get all of Dean's wounds treated and got him redressed in clean cloths, he bedded the youngster down on the leather couch he had claimed as his own long before.

Instead of going to his own room Bobby stayed on the couch opposite Dean watching as the young man stared at the ceiling above him as his eyes only rarely closed. During those brief moments that those eyes were closed Bobby could see all the painful emotions overtake the youngster's face but it never lasted long as Dean seemed to wake himself from his nightmares. The older hunter was at a loss as to a solution to the problem. Dean was seriously messed up both physically and mentally. Then a thought entered his mind. So was his brother emotionally. They needed each other. Between the two of them he had seen miracles occur and only the two of them together could fix what was wrong with them.

His fingers shook slightly as he dialed the number that he knew by heart. What would he say to Sam? How could he soften the blow enough to keep the younger brother from truly going off the deep end? Part of him feared that Sam wouldn't even bother to pick up the phone, but he had to try.

After three rings the phone did click over and he heard a groggy, "What?" come from the receiver. Hell, it was the middle of the damn night.

"Sam, its Bobby. I need you to get here ASAP," he said in a commanding voice hoping the tone would convince the youngster to just obey.

"What the hell, Bobby? I'm on my way to Wichita. I don't have time to swing by for a visit. You know that," came Sam's testy reply.

"Well make the damn time you selfish S.O.B!" Bobby said letting some of the anger he had been holding onto for the past year slip into his voice then instantly regretted it. Sam didn't deserve that no matter what. "Listen, this is important. It's about your brother."

His voice had drawn a pair of bright green eyes to rest upon him and he saw confusion in them but Dean didn't comment as he waited for Bobby to finish the conversation. This made the older man swallow hard. He'd have to talk to Dean about Sam and very soon.

After a moment of silence Sam's voice came back on the line slightly unsteady but still there. "Okay, Bobby, I'll swing by after Wichita."

"No, you'll swing by before Wichita. You need to get here like yesterday and don't argue with me. Just do it." He knew he was pushing it this time. Sam didn't have to take his orders but he hoped that the bond they once shared would be enough to give Sam a push in the right direction.

"Fine." He could hear the steel that had crept back into Sam's voice and it made him shudder. How was it that the only thing that could shake him from his self-inflicted exile was the mention of his brother? God they needed each other.

Once the line went dead Bobby glanced to his charge, who was still staring at him and he could see that Dean knew something wasn't right but decided to try to push that conversation off until morning. "Sam should be here sometime in the morning. You need to get some sleep, kid."

For a moment he could see the need to question in those eyes but the need sunk as exhaustion won out instead and the bright green depths were hidden by heavy eyelids. Bobby stood and checked that Dean was covered completely and reached down touching his forehead feeling the heat there. He had given him something for the fever but the medicine had yet to take affect. Maybe he should have taken him to the hospital, but then how could he have explained the condition the young man was in? And if he had to be honest with himself he would have to admit that the thought of him being out of his sight for more than a few seconds frightened him. He couldn't bear the thought of losing him again. "Don't worry, kid, we'll get you over this," he whispered pulling the blanket up making sure it covered every inch of his torso. Bobby was rewarded with the sight of a small smile touching the young man's sleeping features. At least that was a start.

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_A/N: Well, what do you all think? I tried to write Dean as not being changed too much on the surface but having a lot of inner turmoil to deal with. It's just the way I can see him being after hell. And I promise future chapters will explain how and why he got out of hell._


	2. Rejection

**Disclaimer:** I forgot this in the first chapter. Been a while since I posted anything, sorry. Supernatural does not belong to me. It belongs to the ever brilliant Erik Kripke and probably a host of other people who I have no clue who they are. I'm just borrowing it along with some very awesome guys. And I promise to bring them back relatively unharmed. Why I don't know since the show never does. But I said it. There you go.

**Author's Note:** Thanks to everyone for the great response I've received on this fic. It being my first fic in the fandom I wasn't so sure how well it would be accepted but I'm glad it's been received so well. So on to chapter 2.

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**Chapter 2: Rejection**

Bobby had been waiting just outside the front door for Sam to show up. He didn't want to risk him just barging in and freaking out when he saw his dead brother sleeping on the couch. Sometime about an hour before Dean's fever had broken and he had finally settled into what resembled real sleep. Bobby had thanked god that the nightmares had seemed to slack off enough for him to do so.

Then around about ten Bobby looked up from the lawn chair he had been dozing in as a loud rumble alerted him to the Impala pulling into the drive and inching its way towards the house.

Sam stepped from the classic car and turned tired, dead looking eyes towards his father's oldest friend and walked forward but stopped to lean against the hood of the car with his arms crossed before him. "Well, Bobby, what is it?" he asked in a voice devoid of all emotion.

"Nice to see you again too, kid," Bobby answered standing and walking forward until he was only inches in front of the taller youth. He reached out instinctively and gave the young man a hug, which he noticed was not returned as he pulled back. "How are you?" he asked stalling the inevitable. Now that Sam was here he wasn't so sure how well this was gonna go. It had seemed like the best idea in the world the night before, when he had picked up that phone, but with Sam being so indifferent now, he began to wonder just how well this would play out.

Sam's eyes squinted in impatience. "Bobby, you said this had something to do with…" His words broke off and he couldn't say the name but he did continue. "If you were just using that to try to get me out here I swear to god you won't like me very much when I'm done with you." There was a dangerous edge to his voice that was unmistakable and Bobby found himself reminiscent of similar conversations with the boy's father. It was uncanny just how alike Sam and John were, and it was also the reason why the last time he had seen his best friend alive he had threatened him with a shotgun. That damn man could anger the most civil of persons and his youngest son was definitely following in his footsteps.

"Sam, this attitude of yours isn't doin' ya no favors. You have some people in this world who truly do care about you and one day you're gonna find that they've taken enough of your shit and then they'll be gone." Bobby hated to be that way with the young man but what else could he do? Sam was in no mood to think straight about what he was about to learn and Bobby really wasn't ready to let him tear into Dean the way he was.

But whether he wanted to stall the inevitable or not the choice was taken from his hands as he heard the screen door to his house creak open with a moan that could have woken the dead. "Damn," he cursed under his breath as he watched the look on Sam's face go from pissed anger to complete and utter surprised confusion. Sam no longer looked at him but stared over his shoulder towards the house. Bobby turned to see a very awake Dean holding the screen door open as he leaned against it for support. There was a look of great relief that covered his features but the look then turned to one of worry. Apparently he had heard the angry conversation.

"Am I interrupting something?" Dean's voice called out hoping to at least shock Sam enough to get him off of Bobby's back.

But there was just no way around Sam's anger it seemed. "What the hell is this, Bobby?"

Bobby saw the flinch shake Dean's frame but he turned back to Sam trying to head off words that he knew would hurt even more. "That, my friend, is your brother."

Sam stared again at Dean, who had yet to step off the porch or even let go of the door, and a snarl curled his lips as his head began to shake back and forth. "I don't know how that thing managed to fool you, Bobby, but it is not my brother."

Bobby didn't want to see Dean's reaction. He knew that those words coming from his brother were gonna be so much harder to hear than any of his own suspicions the night before were. "I don't know how, Sam, but yes he is. You need to listen to me!" With those words Bobby grabbed both of the young man's arms and tried to shake some sense into him.

Sam glared down at the much shorter man and then pulled away from him striding around the car only stopping for a moment next to the door so he could say his final words on the matter. He didn't even look up at them as he spoke. "Bobby, we burned Dean's body. There is no way in hell he could come back. You and I both know it. Whatever that is, it's not Dean and I suggest you kill it before it has the chance to kill you." The sound of the slamming car door resounded through the yard and Bobby couldn't hold back the stream of curses that lit his lips.

The tires on the Impala screeched as he flipped the car around and tore out of the drive. Bobby looked back and saw that Dean's face was completely devoid of any emotion at the moment but he knew it was there hidden underneath that blank stare. So much pain and raw agony that it made all the physical harm he had ever taken seem mild compared to this. "Dean, he's just in shock. Give him time to adjust."

Dean bit his lip and shook his head. "How the hell is he supposed to adjust to this, Bobby? There's no way in hell that I can blame him for seeing it this way either. But what makes it worse is that I can't give him time. He's in too much danger for me to just sit back and let him run off like that."

Bobby stared in confusion at the statement. "What do you mean?"

"I'm beginning to remember a few more things about my time down below and I think Lilith has something seriously twisted planned for Sammy, and it ain't gonna be pretty," he explained not sure exactly how he knew it, but deep in his bones he felt like his little brother was in a lot of trouble.

"Her and her demons have been after him for a year now and he's plowed through them like rows of corn. I don't see what she could throw at him that he can't handle," Bobby pointed out knowing that Dean didn't know exactly what Sam had become.

Dean nodded but the look of determination on his face did not leave. "I'm glad to hear my little brother has learned to take care of himself but there's something different about this." He paused for a moment and the look of concentration on his face turned to exasperation. "I just wish I could remember what she has planned."

Bobby knew better than to brush off the young man's concerns so he nodded his acceptance. "Alright, I'll get some supplies together and we'll head to Wichita."

Dean finally let his gaze break from the dust cloud that was left behind by the Impala and faced his friend. "Bobby, what happened to him?"

Bobby was about to head to the house but he paused to answer him. "You died, Dean! That's what happened and **that** is the only way that your brother knows how to cope with it."

Dean's face twisted into a scowl and he couldn't help the angry growl that left his lips. "I die and he becomes a twisted, demon killing, obsessive, robot. Okay, maybe he was obsessive before but never that cold."

"It's a whole new world, kid, and you've got a lot of catching up to do," Bobby answered as he walked by Dean and into the house.

"I guess so," he whispered in answer still staring out to where the Impala had just been. "Well at least my car's still in one piece."

* * *

Damn them both to hell. What the hell was Bobby thinking bringing that thing that looked like Dean into his home? He was probably being carved up like a turkey on Thanksgiving at that very moment and it would serve him right.

Dean was dead. He wasn't coming back. Sam had accepted that fact. It had taken him almost that entire year to make himself believe it. A year of endless fruitless searches and demon interrogations that always ended the same way. No hope, never any hope that he'd ever get his brother back. He had spent most of that year denying the fact that Dean was gone or that he couldn't somehow come back. But it had all been just worthless wishful thinking. Everyone had told him that it was impossible. He had even searched out the Trickster and tried to force him to bring Dean back or to at least reset time so he'd have another chance to save his brother. The Trickster's only answer had been a poignant "I told you so," and then he'd disappeared into nothing. The words 'you can't save your brother,' echoed through his mind over and over driving him almost mad with guilt and rage. There had been nothing left for him after that and he had finally realized that he'd have to face it one day. Dean wasn't coming back no matter how hard he tried. It had taken him nearly the entire year but he had finally accepted it and now look at what Bobby had done.

What exactly had he done anyway? What was that creature that looked like his brother? A shape shifter, or maybe a skin changer. Hell, for all he knew it was a thought form and Bobby had conjured it. Nothing good could come of it though. It still wasn't Dean. No, his brother would have ripped him a new one for talking to Bobby like that. Dean wouldn't have allowed him to be that way with the only member of family they had left. Family meant so much to Dean. It always had. There had been times when Sam had let his obsessive search for the demon that killed his mother and Jess take over everything. He had put it above his own safety and above even his family. But never Dean. With Dean it was family first all the time. There was no hesitating on that fact with his brother.

All of these thoughts crowded the youngest Winchester's mind as he sped away from whatever it was that was pretending to be his brother. He couldn't face that thing. Not now, probably not ever. It would just remind him of how much he missed his big brother and that would make him weak and vulnerable all over again. He wasn't weak anymore. He couldn't afford to be, not in the personal war he was waging against Lilith. Being weak would get him killed. Look at Dean. He himself had said that Sam was his weak spot. There was no doubt in his mind that the demons had took advantage of that weak spot and it had gotten his older brother killed. They had used his love for Sam to set a trap for the older hunter and it had worked. So he had to wonder what kind of trap they were trying to set for him now by using his only weak spot against him.

But he couldn't think about that. He had to keep his mind in the game. So in a vain attempt to block out the image of his brother from his mind he looked ahead and concentrated on the Vampire's nest he was hunting for around Wichita.

* * *

The drive towards Wichita was made in mostly silence as Dean sat staring out the passenger window through the pouring rain that had set upon them an hour earlier. He tried desperately to grasp whatever memory it was that had him spooked. But whatever it was just didn't seem to want to be remembered. Dean knew he had several large gaps in his memory during the year he had spent in hell, but could anyone really blame him if he tuned out some of the worst of it? But now he knew if he wanted to save his little brother from whatever Lilith had planned for him he'd have to revisit those lost memories. This thought sent cold chills down his spine and made him want to lose the light lunch that he had eaten not long before. It was hard enough to face what he did remember. Now he wanted to dredge up what he didn't. Damn, the things he'd still do for family.

He heard the sound of Bobby's cell phone shutting but didn't turn to face him. He knew his friend would let him know if he'd found anything out and after just a moment the older man's voice echoed through the cab of the pickup. "Ellen says that there have been some rumors about strange deaths around the Wichita area."

"Yeah, so what's so strange about them?" Dean asked only half concerned with whatever his little brother was going to hunt. Somehow he had a feeling that this wasn't the big bad he was so afraid of but he also knew that whatever Lilith had planned wasn't gonna be too far away. She was too impatient to wait for long.

"Total blood loss," came the older hunter's answer.

Dean turned to him and nodded. "You didn't happen to have brought an extra machete now did ya, Bobby?"

"You oughta know I won't let ya go in naked by now, boy. I always carry an extra," Bobby said in a half joking voice but when Dean didn't take the bait he asked something he had been worried about. "Are you sure you're ready to get back into the hunt this soon, son?"

Dean had turned back towards the window and wished that Bobby hadn't asked him that. Was he really ready? Good question. He was hoping that once the adrenaline started pumping that his body would take over and do what had always come natural to him. Wishing and hoping though were not always a guarantee of success. But… "Do I have a choice?"

"Dean, you've only been back one day. No one's gonna fault you if you need more time to adjust," Bobby said giving him the out if he wished to take it.

But Dean knew he'd never be able to sit back while his brother and friend did all the work. He was a hunter and this was what hunters did. Even hunters that had spent a year in hell. "This ain't my first rodeo, Bobby. I'll be fine."

Bobby snorted at that statement. No matter if Dean wanted to admit it or not there wasn't anything fine about him just then. "You'll be fine? Yeah, let me know when you can say that without lying, kid."

Dean wanted to argue with his friend but somehow he knew that out of any person he ever knew Bobby was the one person who deserved the most truth from him. Not many people would have done the things that the older man had done for both him and his brother and most hunters he knew would have shot and asked questions later when they found him collapsed in their yard. "Maybe when everything evil in this world is dead and gone."

Bobby turned towards him and couldn't help the look of surprise on his face. He hadn't expected Dean to take his comment seriously but it showed him just how much Dean really did trust him that he did. "Just how long you planning on living?"

Dean had to smile at that statement. If Bobby only knew. "After this last year, I plan on living forever if I can."

"Don't rightly see as I can blame you," Bobby answered in all honesty. The alternative sure didn't seem all that appealing.

The rest of the drive was spent in silence and by the time they pulled into Wichita it was almost sundown. They both knew that Sam wouldn't risk going after a vampire nest at night so they spent the next few hours checking out every seedy hotel in the city keeping an eye out for the Impala.

After checking out the eighth hotel they both noticed the black muscle car parked at a local bar instead. "Sam must be doing some fact gathering," Dean pointed out knowing that local bartenders sometimes held a wealth of information on the goings on around their towns.

"Do you want me to go in alone and talk to him?" Bobby asked as Dean opened the pickup door.

For an instant Dean considered just letting Bobby take the lead in this but somehow he knew that if he'd ever convince his brother of his identity he couldn't keep relying on Bobby to be a buffer. "No, this is something Sammy needs to hear from me."

"Alright, I'll follow your lead," Bobby conceded and followed his young friend into the bar.

Dean let his eyes scan the overly crowded room but they soon picked out his brother sitting in a dark corner with his back to the wall. Sam sat with an open bottle of whiskey in front of him and seemed to be staring vacantly at it. Not a good practice for a hunter, Dean thought to himself as he approached the table. Once he was there he took the seat across from Sam and fixed his eyes on his brother's blank face. "You really should pay more attention. Blanking out like that will get you killed someday."

Sam growled in reply and then reached out to pour himself another shot. "Just because I don't choose to acknowledge your presence doesn't mean I didn't see you and Bobby walk in. I guess you noticed the skank in the corner checking you out or the tough biker behind the pool table who looks like he might want to tear you apart. Seems like evil recognizes its own kind even in a place like this."

Dean nodded. He hadn't actually noticed the two but they weren't what he was concerned with at the moment anyway. "Vampires I'm assuming?"

"You should know," Sam answered still not looking up from the shot of whiskey he'd just poured.

Dean chose to ignore the comment and came back with one of his own. "Yeah well, my hunting skills have sort of been neglected for a while now."

Sam snorted and motioned towards the bar where Bobby was getting a couple of beers for he and Dean. "I know you've got Bobby fooled with all that crap but don't think you're gonna trick me."

"You know, Sammy, if I didn't know you better I'd swear you didn't want me to come back or something," Dean said reverting to his old wiseass attitude hoping it would seem familiar to his brother.

The shot glass Sam held slammed down on the table and for the first time he actually looked Dean in the eye. "Don't call me Sammy. Only my brother calls me that."

Dean stared at the barely controlled rage in his brother's eyes and swallowed hard feeling the sting of his words. "Yeah, that's what you told Gordon too," he answered then stood turning around and heading to the bar. It was just too much. The rage and flat out hate he saw in Sam's eyes was just too much for him to take and he hated himself for it. Since when were his emotions so whacked out that he couldn't give as much as he got from his little brother? And since when did Sammy hate him that much. There had been times in the past when anger had brewed between them and Dean had really wondered if his brother did hate him just a little bit, but this was different. He had to remind himself that his brother didn't really believe he was even Dean so that had to count for something but it didn't stop the pain he felt ripping at his heart.

Bobby stopped him halfway to the bar and the look of concern in his eyes was unmistakable, but Dean just shook his head and brushed passed him. He took a seat on one of the many barstools and ordered himself something much stronger than the beer Bobby had offered him.

Bobby faced the table where Sam sat and steeled himself for the argument he was sure was to come. He took the seat that Dean had just vacated and set both beers down in front of him. He fully intended to finish both of them himself and probably a few more on top of it. "Sam."

Sam refilled his shot glass again and swallowed the dark amber liquid in one drink. "Bobby."

"Any reason why your brother just became public enemy number one?" Bobby asked in agitation.

Sam snorted at that and then leaned in close to Bobby. "What the hell did he do to fool you, Bobby? You are better than this."

Bobby shook his head at his young friend and leaned in himself his voice only slightly above a whisper so the other patrons wouldn't hear him. "I know better how to root out evil than you ever will, pup. So don't tell me that I don't know what I'm doing. Holy water, rock salt, silver, a devil's trap and count 'em, **five exorcisms**. Now you damn well tell me that he's evil and I'll call you a liar to your face."

Sam rocked back in his seat and stared for a moment at Dean's back. Shit, but that was a lot of traps to pass. But how could he be Dean? "Bobby we burned the corpse," he said but his voice was filled with less conviction than before. He continued to stare at the man that looked like his brother and noticed that he was sweet-talking the bartender and Sam felt a moment of déjà vu seeing the sight.

"I know that. But you haven't been with him. He may not be quite the same but that is Dean," he answered, his voice full of conviction.

Sam looked back at his friend finding it hard to pry his eyes from the back of the person he had been refusing to believe. "What do you mean by 'not the same'?"

Bobby could hear the tone in Sam's voice and knew he was grasping at straws still trying to deny his brother. Why the hell couldn't he just believe? After everything Dean had done for him you'd think Sam would be the first person to want to believe his brother was alive. "Hell does things to a man, kid. Things that the rest of just can't understand."

"What if it's an act, Bobby? Or some kind of trap that Lilith has set up for us?" Sam suggested not yet ready to trust in blind faith.

Bobby knew he could argue back and forth with Sam all night but there really was no way to explain how Dean could be back. It was physically impossible but there was no doubt in his mind that it was Dean. "It's up to you to decide, kid. Either way though, I'm thinking you might need some help here." He too had noticed the strange looks they were garnering from a couple of the other patrons and the looks made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

"I can take care of one nest by myself, Bobby. I've done it before," Sam said dismissing the idea.

"But if you don't have to, then why risk it?" came the older hunter's reply.

"I'll just be more comfortable alone," Sam said distantly.

During the conversation Dean had wondered back over to the table but opted to lean against a wooden post next to it instead of taking a seat. Bobby hoped that he would keep his mouth shut so he could convince Sam to let them help him at least. "It seems to me that one of your daddy's rules was to never hunt alone unless you had to."

Dean nodded keeping his mouth shut remembering how his father had learned the hard way on too many occasions that it was good to have someone to watch your back.

"Well, Dad wasn't always right," Sam answered.

Dean snorted at that remembering too many times when his brother had told him the same thing. He had thought that Sammy had gotten over butting heads with their now deceased father but apparently his own death had dredged up some of the old resentments. "Where have I heard that before?"

Sam glanced up at him with a sneer on his face. "I wouldn't honestly know."

Dean ground his teeth together and made a decision that he hoped he wouldn't regret. "Listen, you don't trust me. That's fine. You don't want me to help you. That's fine too. But at least take Bobby with you. I'm assuming you do still trust him."

Bobby looked around and realized just how much attention they were beginning to attract and decided that they needed to move this discussion elsewhere. "Listen, maybe this isn't the best of places to talk you two. Sam, we'll follow you back to your hotel and make plans there, okay."

Sam tore his eyes away from Dean's and nodded to Bobby also seeing the danger they were putting themselves into and it didn't take long for the three of them to leave the bar.

They parked next to each other at the run down motel that Sam had checked into earlier. Bobby got out immediately and headed to the front office to rent a second room for he and Dean while Sam headed to the trunk of the Impala to pull out what he needed for the night. Dean hadn't been moving too fast seeing as he was starting to feel like crap again. It was easy to tell that his fever was spiking again and his stamina was waning faster than he'd like to admit but he couldn't show any weakness in front of Sam so he got out of the pickup and walked to the back of both vehicles. He stood so he could lean against the fender of Bobby's truck. He hoped the action wouldn't give away just how much he needed something to lean on. But thoughts of his weakness fled as he stared at his brother and the trunk of the Impala. His eyes widened in shock when he saw the state it was in. "Dude, what did you do to my car?"

Sam looked up at him and snorted at the statement. "I organized the trunk of **my** car."

"But, dude, it's so… neat. What were you thinking? It looks like a chick's car now." Dean knew that Sam could get obsessive at times but this took the cake. "Dude, can we say OCD?"

Sam grabbed the duffle he had just filled and slammed the trunk shut. "As I said, my car," he said heading towards his room door but stopped thinking of a question he had wanted to ask since the bar. "So did you get the bartender's number?"

Dean gave him an incredulous look as Sam swung around and glared at him. "No," he answered truthfully. He hadn't actually even thought of asking.

"Hmm, seems to me that the Dean I knew wouldn't pass up the opportunity at something that fine," he pointed out.

Dean shrugged wincing slightly when the motion pulled at some of his stitches. "Just not in the mood I guess." Truth was, in the state he was in, he was afraid that any woman would take one look at him and run in terror but he wasn't about to admit that to Sam.

Bobby came back at that moment with the keys to the room next to Sam's. "So what time in the morning are we doing this, Sam?"

Sam glanced at Bobby and then back at Dean and then turned to his own door. "Right after sunup. Just you though, Bobby." With that he opened his room door and went in slamming it behind him.

Bobby glanced at Dean with a questioning look on his face. Dean looked back at the Impala again and shook his head in disgust. "Dude, he needs to seriously chill out… and get laid while he's at it."

"Probably does, but for now let's just see about getting a good nights sleep, after I change your bandages, that is," Bobby suggested opening the door to their room and ushering Dean in as he groaned and mumbled the entire way about hunters that thought they were doctors.

"They don't need changing, Bobby. I just need some sleep," Dean argued once inside.

But Bobby was having none of that. "Listen, kid, you will let me take care of your wounds the proper way or I will go right next door and have a chat with Sammy." It was a low move and he knew it but if it was the only way to get Dean to cooperate, he'd try anything.

Dean snarled at the threat. He really didn't like being threatened. "That's not right, Bobby."

"I don't care. Either you take care of yourself or I find someone to help me take care of you and since your brother is the closest person around that would make him my first choice." Bobby was good. There was no denying it. He knew how to play Dean like a fine tuned instrument. That was something that most people would have found hard to believe but Dean had seen him do it before.

But then a thought crossed his mind that might actually make Bobby pause on this one attempt to get him to comply. "Honestly, Bobby, even if he knew, I'm not sure he'd give a damn."

Bobby deflated at hearing that. It wasn't fair and it wasn't right. Sam should be the one taking care of Dean and he knew that if the boy just realized the truth there would be nothing that would keep him from doing so. But Dean's death and the year following it had warped the younger brother's mind to the point where he just couldn't trust himself to believe in much of anything anymore. "Dean, he's still Sammy. He's just a little lost."

Dean sighed deeply. He knew that. It was easy to see the way his brother's mind was working now but it didn't make watching it and taking all the rejection he lumped on him any easier. "I know. I just don't know how to go about finding him anymore."

Bobby nodded understanding but he still had to have faith. Both of his boys had lost so much faith in everything they held dear in their lives and it was up to him to help them find it again, not to mention finding each other. "Just maybe he's the one that needs to find you. Just do what you can, son. Fate will do the rest."

Dean snorted at that statement. "Bobby, you and I both know that Fate's a bitch!"

* * *

_A/N: Well that's the second chapter and now we can all see what I meant by Sam being an ass in this fic. But I promise he will get an eye opener very soon. Any comments?_


	3. Redemption

**Disclaimer:** They aren't mine. If they were I certainly wouldn't be writing stories about them. I'd be living adventures with them. But since I can't I'll have to settle for this.

* * *

**Chapter 3: Redemption**

Dean watched silently from the hotel doorway as his brother and Bobby pulled out of the parking lot in the Impala, heading off to do something that he surely felt he should be doing himself. It just didn't feel right to stay behind while they went out and hunted without him, but what else was he supposed to do? Sam didn't trust him. Nothing he could possibly say could change that.

Bobby wasn't even much better himself. He didn't want to risk Dean getting hurt. What a joke that was. After everything he'd already been through he didn't believe there would ever be anything that would compare to the pain he had felt in hell, but Bobby did at least mean well. What he did was out of love, unlike Sam who just didn't trust or believe him at all.

No matter how much he wanted to come up with a valid reason for his present state of living he just couldn't. He knew that Lilith had somehow managed to conjure his body for him. That had happened not very long after his death. He could remember coming to and feeling not quite real in that dark pit below. But then she had been there not too long after, and she was furious. Sam had managed to survive and honestly the only way he could describe her reaction was a full on tantrum. Dean knew that if circumstances had been different and he wasn't rotting in the deepest darkest pits of hell that he would have taken a real perverse pleasure in seeing the demon's fit.

But as it was she had promised to make his stay there more unbearable than he could ever imagine and she hadn't been lying either. Her hound had been there too. He could see it and the mangy thing was still covered in his blood, and of all things licking it off and quite enjoying the treat. Seriously a freaky thing to see if you thought about it too hard. She had done something with some of the blood though and the next thing he knew he had his body back. The body was still ripped, tattered and bleeding, but some how alive and able to move, well almost move. He was pinned to some sort of webbing and couldn't manage to get free. He had spent a lot of his time in hell attached to that webbing as demon after demon floated in for a visit. He was like a side show freak that they all came to stare at and play with and their idea of play wasn't exactly his idea of fun. Some had physically attacked him, others had messed with his mind but they all wanted a chance at the great Dean Winchester. A lot of them were in a downright rage considering he had exorcised several of them himself, and it sure did piss some of them off when he didn't have a clue who they were; after all they did all look the same to him. Fugly, just down right fugly.

These were things that he knew he couldn't tell Sam or Bobby. These were the things that nightmares were made of and he quite preferred not to subject them to those memories.

He waited a quarter of an hour longer and then pulled a set of keys from his pants pocket. A set of pickup keys to be exact. Bobby hadn't even noticed they were missing as he rushed to leave that morning with Sam.

He closed and locked the door behind him and then crawled into the pickup. Just because Sam didn't want him to come with them didn't mean he wouldn't show up on his own. He still had a job to do as Sammy's older brother and he'd do it whether Sam liked it or not. As he drove he checked behind the seat and found the extra machete that Bobby had left. Good old Bobby always carried a spare. It would have been nice to have some dead man's blood too but beggars can't be choosers.

* * *

Damn, this wasn't going as he'd planned. The vampire nest had been a lot better protected than they had expected and even though they had taken out most of the vampires within the first ten minutes Bobby had been hurt. Sam was standing protectively over the older hunter who was lying on the floor unconscious as three more bloodsuckers surrounded them.

He hefted the machete and waited to be rushed. The first one was relatively easy as it just rushed blindly in. The second was a little tougher and actually managed to land a few sound blows to his ribs before he knocked it to the ground dazed and unmoving. The third was a female and she snuck up behind him and jumped on his back just as he was about to make the killing blow on her mate. Her teeth grazed his neck and he spun wildly trying to fling her off as he staggered around the room. He'd never seen a vampire show so much tenacity before. No matter which way he turned or twisted she held on and managed a few more nibbles at his neck and just as he wondered if he'd ever dislodge her he heard a cracking sound and the floor boards of the old barn he stood on began to crumble right below his feet.

Within seconds he felt the vampire let go as he gave her one last push while he was falling and the next moment he found himself wedged tightly below the floor looking up at a two by three foot jagged hole in the wooden planks. While he was struggling with the vampire he hadn't noticed the metal grate below his feet that had given way with some of the rotten floorboards, but he soon began to squirm as the feeling of being trapped closed in on him. As near as he could tell he had fallen into some sort of drainage tunnel below the floor that got more and more narrow as it descended down into the darkness. His legs were both firmly wedged into the smaller end of the tunnel pinning them in place and making it impossible to move either up or down.

His arms reached up frantically trying desperately to reach the edges of the hole or any thing else that he could maneuver his way out with. But it was no use. His arm length was at least a foot too short.

He began to hear movement above him and his blood ran cold thinking of Bobby lying unconscious above and that skank of a vampire still up there and moving. Ah hell, he had to get out. His panic more than doubled when he heard more noises that sounded like a scuffle. Maybe Bobby had regained consciousness. But was he in any shape to take on that she-devil?

After another couple of moments of muffled fighting he heard someone mumble "Shit, that hurt," and then a loud female scream that could have only been from the skank.

He waited in fear for another few seconds and then couldn't help himself. "Bobby," he yelled his voice carrying up and out of the hole. "Bobby, are you okay?"

Once the echoes of his voice died down he waited in silence for his friend's voice but instead he heard someone drop heavily to the floor next to the hole. "Oh god, how bad are you hurt? Bobby!" His words came out panicked as he imagined his friend bleeding to death up above with him stuck down a hole.

A moment of relief hit him as he saw a shadow move over the hole above him but instead of Bobby's face peering over the edge of the hole he saw a face he hadn't expected.

"Bobby's still out, but he's breathing. How the hell did you get down that hole, you numbskull?" came the familiar voice of his brother. Well the thing that looked like his brother he had to remind himself.

"What are you doing here? You were supposed to stay at the hotel. And how did you find us anyway?" Sam asked anger rising in his voice wondering if just maybe he was in league with the vampires somehow. How else would he have found their nest? Sam hadn't told neither he nor Bobby where it was before they left that morning.

"Look, just cause I didn't get the bartender's number doesn't mean she didn't tell me anything, and I came to help your inept hunter ass, but if you'd really like me to leave I'll collect Bobby and be on my way," came Dean's scathing reply. He was really beginning to get tired of his brother's attitude. He'd put up with it the day before because he had been overwhelmed at seeing his little brother again but at that moment he just felt way too much like crap to take it anymore. That bitch of a vampire had dug her nails into his back and he was almost positive that she'd ripped out some of the stitches that Bobby had put in for him. Every inch of his back felt like it was on fire now.

Sam just scowled at him unwilling to ask for his help even if it would be the wisest bet.

Even though he had just threatened to leave his little brother behind Dean knew he could never go through with that threat, so he leaned against the edge of the hole with one arm and reached his other hand down waiting for Sam to reach up and grab it. "Come on, Sammy, just take my hand so we can get the hell out of this place."

Sam scowled up at him and hesitated. He knew his anger would get the best of him someday but today he just couldn't hold it in. "Don't call me, Sammy!"

Dean growled in anger and wanted to just grab his brother by the hair and yank him out of there but his reach just wasn't that long and he knew it. "Fine, **Bitch**, grab my hand so we can get the hell out of here."

"Bite me, Jerk," Sam responded automatically before he could stop himself.

Dean couldn't help the smile that touched his lips at their familiar banter. It felt good to hear his brother call him that again even if he knew it was just a slip of the tongue on Sammy's part.

But the smile was wiped from his face as he felt something heavy land on his back and he was forced flat on the floor with his chest, neck and head leaning over the hole. "Son of a…" his curse was cut off as something grabbed around his head and took hold of his chin pulling his head to the side.

He could feel hot breath streaming down his neck and it smelled of rancid decaying blood. "My, my, look what we got here; a dead man and his brother. I'm just wondering which of you is dead and which is the brother," came a smooth mocking voice.

Sam stared up at the second vampire that he had knocked out. He hadn't even thought to warn Dean that he wasn't dead yet.

"Get off of me you moldy piece of dead flesh," Dean said through clenched teeth. The position his head was being held at was putting so much pressure on his neck that he feared it might snap at any moment.

"Oh but what would be the fun in that, Dean? And if memory serves me right, you weren't much more than a rotting piece of flesh a few days ago yourself," the creature crooned in delight directly into his ear. He heard the grunt his captive made and kept speaking. "Oh yes, I know who you are. We heard that you got out. I was rather surprised to say the least."

"Great, I'm famous, who cares. Either let me up or snap my neck but damnit do something?" Dean growled as the evil being let his head slip just a fraction of an inch so the pressure on his neck wasn't so intense. It wouldn't do to accidentally kill his play toy before he had his fun.

"Oh, but don't you want to know how I knew it was you?" The vampire really was enjoying this torment. It was more fun than any of the kills he had made in years.

"Not particularly," Dean answered his eyes moving around trying to see anything near that he could get a hold of to fight the monster off with. He was not at his full strength and the creature was almost superhuman, so he was definitely at a disadvantage here.

Sam was almost mesmerized by the scene above him. The vampire was claiming that this was Dean. For an instant there he himself had slipped into the old brotherly attitude but this was different. One of the enemy was calling him Dean and trying to kill him. If he wasn't Dean what would be the point in this show? He swallowed hard staring up at the person who he had been denying since he had walked back into his life. God, it was Dean. It had to be, didn't it?

The vampire though ignored Dean's uncooperative answer. "I can smell it on you. Hell that is. You reek of it, that and blood, old blood. It doesn't matter how many times you wash it from your skin. It gets caught in your pores and won't completely go away. You must have bled dry a hundred times over to reek of it this much. Lilith is very good at reanimating dead objects, now isn't she?"

Sam suddenly felt the world drop out from under him and cold chills swam up his spine as bile rose in his throat. His mind couldn't help imagining his brother dieing a hundred times over and that demon bitch bringing him back to life to watch him die again and again. "You bastard, stop it," he bellowed squirming even harder trying to shift his body anyway imaginable so he could push himself upward.

"Don't worry, Sam, I'll get to you soon enough. I'm gonna enjoy every moment of the next couple of hours as I first bleed your brother here dry and then your friend over there. Then it will be your turn. You get to be last since you did slaughter most of my family. You took my family so now you get to watch as I decimate yours," the vampire explained in great glee.

Dean had had enough of this. He pushed up with all his might trying to dislodge the much stronger being above him but this only garnered him a shove in the back of the head. "My, aren't you a feisty one."

"I'd say bite me, but you'd probably take it as an invitation, fang face," Dean came back with, again trying to struggle his way free.

"Why yes, yes I would." The devilish reply was whispered into his ear and then he felt his shirt collar ripped away as fangs descended into the crook of his neck just above his shoulder. He couldn't hold back a groan as he felt the fang begin to feed on him.

"Dean!" Sam yelled reaching up and trying desperately to grasp his brother but his own arm was just not long enough. He could see the vampire's eyes and they were filled with gluttoness mirth as he fed greedily on his brother. Blood started to leak out around his mouth and slide downward until it fell in fat droplets landing on Sam's cheeks. He reached up wiping at the blood and again had to fight down the bile. Yet again he was staring up at someone he loved being killed right before his eyes with their blood dripping onto him. First Mom, then Jessica and now Dean. The similarities were so frightening. He couldn't do this. Not again. He couldn't watch as someone he loved died like that again.

Dean could feel his strength fleeting away with every ounce of blood he lost and his eyes sought those of his little brother's wanting so desperately to find a way to save him, yet again, but knowing he had no chance of doing so. He wasn't ready for this yet. He had been too weak and too injured to begin with and now they would both die because of it. At least Sammy's soul would go be with their parents, wherever that was. He knew where he'd end up though. Just because he'd managed to get out didn't mean that she didn't still own his soul. He had a one-way ticket back downstairs.

But just maybe once he was gone Sammy would find a way to beat this thing. It would have to get him out of the hole to kill him, wouldn't it? Yes, he needed to believe that Sam would find a way to save himself. Hadn't Bobby said that Sam had become good at taking care of himself?

He reached out the arm that was hanging over the edge of the hole wanting so desperately just to have some contact with his brother again before he died.

Sam saw his brother's arm reaching out to him and threw his left arm up grasping his hand, clinging to it like a lifeline as tears started to roll down his face. He felt his brother's grip tighten on his hand and stared into those moss green eyes. Eyes that begged him to keep fighting no matter what. Eyes that would soon dim and extinguish forever if he didn't do something to stop this. He couldn't let that happen, not after he'd just found him again. Not after he'd just realized that this was his brother. He couldn't lose him again.

"I'm sorry, Sammy. I tried," Dean whispered letting his eyelids fall shut feeling as if he was being pulled under an ocean where he was drowning on his own blood and would only end up right back in the pit.

"No, Dean, don't you quit on me now! You came back from hell, this should be a walk in the park compared to that," he called back squeezing his brother's hand trying desperately to will him to live and trying desperately not to break himself. But his voice broke anyway and it felt as if his heart was being ripped from his chest, just the same as it felt a little over a year before when he held his brother's bloodied body and cried for what he had lost. He couldn't bear losing him again.

He had to find a way. His mind whirled with possibilities. Some were ridiculous and other's just downright outrageous but then it hit him. He tightened the grip he had on his brother's hand and prayed he wouldn't harm him doing this. He pulled with all his might and was pleased that neither Dean nor the vampire seemed to budge but he himself was propelled upwards and he felt his legs break free of the tunnel walls that held him. He wasn't able to completely pull himself from the hole but he did get far enough up to land a fist into the vampire's face knocking it back away from Dean.

Dean's eyes flew open again at his brother's movement and as the vampire's weight was lifted from his back he felt his brother's full weight pulling at his arm and began to slide forward unable to stop the movement. Luckily Sam had thought to brace his legs against the tunnel sides and didn't slide too far. As it was his head was level with the broken floor and he grabbed the floorboards desperately trying to pull himself up before the vampire recovered enough to attack again.

Dean rolled away from the hole never letting go of his brother's hand as he tried to help him pull himself out of the hole. Between the two of them they had almost gotten Sam completely out before the vampire stood and started towards them again. Neither of them had a weapon handy and Sam knew he'd probably have to fight the creature with his bare hands, but he'd done it before and he'd managed to win that time. He certainly did not plan on failing this time.

But just as the creature was about to pounce on him it stopped moving and they heard a wet squishing sound and to their amazement something jutted out of its chest covered in blood and gore. The creature turned around looking for whatever had attacked it and they each could see Bobby standing there with blood covering both hands.

The vampire stared down to the object protruding from its chest and smiled a wicked smile. "A wooden stake, old man. And what is this supposed to do to me?"

Bobby smiled right back. "Normally nothing, but when it's covered in dead man's blood… Well you should start feeling a might bit poorly here in a second or two."

The smile was wiped from the creature's face as he felt the first wave of sickness pass through him and he fell to his knees unable to stand any longer. Sam stood and crossed towards him picking up Dean's discarded machete along the way and took great pleasure in slicing the beast's head from its shoulders.

Sam sighed in relief and nodded his thanks to Bobby for saving their butts. "Man, am I glad you were here, Bobby."

"I think I owe you an I told you so," Bobby answered reaching down and wiping the blood from his hands on his jeans.

"Damn," came a tired voice from behind Sam and they turned to see Dean sitting up next to the hole grasping the side of his neck and it was easy to see that he could barely hold his head up.

Bobby peered around Sam and they both moved forward to stand above their fallen family member. "Damn what, Dean?" Bobby asked in confusion.

Dean glanced up to them and had a rather embarrassed look on his face. "This was supposed to be me rescuing your butts, but look at me. I'm the one that needed saving. I must be losing my touch."

Bobby couldn't resist the chance to scold the oldest Winchester. "If you had stayed at the hotel like I told ya to, you wouldn't be so damned messed up, now would ya?"

Sam though couldn't sit back and watch either of them beat up on Dean for what he'd done. God, Dean! It really was him. His brother was alive. He didn't know how and for the first time that day he didn't even care how. It didn't matter. There was no more questioning it. This was Dean and whether he realized it or not he had saved them. "Bobby, if he'd have stayed back at the hotel both of us would probably be dead by now."

They both looked at Sam and neither spoke for a long moment. That sure was one hell of a turn around in attitude for the young hunter and a welcome one as far as Dean could see. But he didn't want to make this awkward, so when he finally broke the silence it was with a simple phrase. "Can we just get out of here?"

Bobby reached down and pulled Dean up from the floor letting him lean heavily on him. He knew that the young hunter was probably hurt much worse than they could see, so he didn't mind at all supporting him.

Now that the danger was over Sam seemed a little lost as what to do next so he walked ahead of them and opened the doors to the Impala. Bobby decided to leave his pickup there till the next day. After the hit to the head he had taken he wasn't too sure if driving was the best of ideas then and besides he wanted to be able to keep a close eye on Dean until they got back to the hotel.

Once at the hotel Sam got out and opened the door to his room waiting for Bobby to bring Dean in. Bobby sat the wounded hunter down at the foot of the second bed and then got to work gathering the supplies he'd need to take care of his wounds.

Sam stood back silently watching Bobby work not at all sure what to do. He felt as if he should be doing something to help his brother but after the way he'd acted he feared that Dean would reject anything he tried to do.

The bite on Dean's neck was pretty deep but at least not ragged like a lot of vampire bites seemed to be so Bobby was able to just clean the blood from it and then bandage it. Once that was done Bobby stared down at Dean and sighed heavily. "What else?" he asked knowing that there was too much blood on Dean's shirt to just be from the bite.

Dean hadn't spoken yet. He was hoping that Bobby would just let it go at that until he had a chance to get back to their room. "Nothing, I'm fine."

Bobby snorted at that. "I bet. How many of those stitches I put in did ya yank out?"

Sam looked from Bobby to Dean in confusion. What stitches?

Dean glared at Bobby. He had promised. Bobby glared right back though. "Don't give me that look. I told ya I'd keep it to myself if you took care of yourself. Look at you. You're a mess and now I have to clean ya up, again!"

Dean sighed heavily. He wasn't gonna get out of this. Sam was gonna see but what else could he do? Bobby was a like a pit bull when he got something into that thick skull of his.

So he let his head drop in resignation as he reached up and started unbuttoning the shirt. It seemed to take such a long time to get the buttons undone and once they were his fingers stalled. "Hey, Sam, do you think you could get me a beer," he called out desperate to keep his brother from seeing.

Sam nodded but instead of heading out of the room as Dean had expected he walked towards the sink and Dean turned glimpsing a small fridge tucked next to it. Damn modern conveniences, he thought bitterly as he turned back around facing away from Sam.

Bobby was getting tired of the stalling though. "Dean, take it off. I'm tired and I want to go to bed, but I'm not gonna do that till you are taken care of."

Dean could hear the frustration in Bobby's voice so he stopped stalling and pulled the shirt off letting it fall to the floor next to the bed. After just a few short seconds he heard glass breaking and swung his head around. Sam stood next to the sink and his hand was held out like it was holding something but the beer bottle he had just opened was on the floor in about a hundred pieces with a puddle of beer running off the linoleum floor and into the carpet. Dean could see the way Sam's hand was shaking and the ghostly pallor his face had taken on. He didn't know what to say so he just turned back around and waited as Bobby removed the torn and bloody bandages. That she-devil of a vampire had certainly done a number on his stitches. "Damn, boy, half of these are gonna have to be re-stitched."

"Sorry, Bobby," he mumbled.

"It's okay, kid. But you are not doing any more hunting for at least the next two weeks, maybe longer. You're coming back to my place and will be on house arrest until I decide you are better." Bobby knew he sounded like a dictator at the moment but he didn't honestly care. He wasn't gonna let this fool kid get himself killed in the first week he was back alive. What really surprised him though was the fact that Dean didn't fight him on it. He just remained completely quiet and waited for the pain to begin.

Bobby glanced back at Sam and saw that he had gotten down on his hands and knees and was cleaning up the beer and glass, but the way Sam's hands trembled over the glass was more than noticeable. At that moment Bobby decided it was time to throw these two onto the path of togetherness again. "Sam, can you come help me with this? That hit on the head I took really messed with the old noggin. I'm not so sure how well I can stitch right now."

Dean glared up at Bobby again, who just ignored the look and waited for Sam to stand and clean his hands. After a moment he was standing next to Bobby and the older man handed him the thread and needle he had prepared. Then Bobby turned and went to the fridge pulling out three beers. He brought them back and handed one to each of the boys. Sam had sat on the bed behind Dean but had yet to touch him. He stared at the multitude of scars both old and new and at the wounds that were still raw and painful.

He had heard the vampire's words but nothing could have prepared him to see this. How much pain had his brother suffered? And he had done that for him, so he could live. And how had Sam repaid him. He'd mistrusted him, disbelieved him, he'd even suggested that Bobby kill him. He'd let him down in the worst possible of ways, plain and simple. How would he ever make it up to him?

He reached out one trembling hand and started the first stitch being extra careful to make the stitches as small as he could. His brother already had too many scars.

After about fifteen minutes of silence Dean spoke up. "Sure could use some tunes right about now," he suggested swallowing hard as he tried to control his breathing. He kept feeling the urge to gasp for air, which wasn't unexpected since he was half holding his breath with each stitch. He couldn't believe how much worse this felt than the first time when Bobby had stitched him up. He knew the infection had to be getting worse for it to be that painful but there was no way in hell he was gonna let either of them see how bad he truly felt. Sam blamed himself enough already and at the moment Bobby was just too ready to pass out lectures and besides it sure as hell wasn't a Dean thing to do.

Bobby reached out and grabbed the tv remote flipping the channel to one of the music video stations and was pleased to see a classic rock tribute going on. Dean would like that. As the first strains of AC/DC's If You Want Blood rocked through the tv speakers they each cringed in unison. Bobby immediately flipped the channel to another music station and was relieved to hear Nickelback's Someday float into the room. Not Dean's usual fare but a lot less morbid than anything about blood. After a moment Sam was surprised to hear Dean mumbling the words to the song under his breath. Sam hadn't even suspected that Dean would know who Nickelback was, much less know the words to their songs. Bobby though wasn't surprised to see the motion of his lips. It wasn't all that different than when he had spoken the exorcism chants. Dean had needed the distraction then and he needed it now.

He could see the tender way that Sam was caring for his brother's wounds and it brought him hope that somehow the two of them would be able to heal each other if they gave it enough time and patience. "Well I think I'm gonna go get some sleep. You got this, Sam?"

Sam nodded never taking his eyes off his task and Bobby was honestly happy to see the depth of emotion in his young friend's eyes. This hurt. It hurt like hell to see what his brother had survived. But it was at least an emotion, something Sam had been devoid of for way too long now. "I'll be right next door if you need me," he added and then left the two brothers alone together.

As the music continued to pipe through the room Sam worked on in silence wiping away the excess blood from his brother's back as he stitched the wounds closed again. Several times he laid a cold wet cloth on some of the wounds that looked angry and red, knowing the cool water would sooth the burning. At those times he could hear his brother sigh in some relief and the small sound made him choke back the tears that were threatening to fall. His tears wouldn't help his brother. They wouldn't make the pain or the memories any less horrid to stand.

Once he had replaced the bandages on the wounds he found one of his own shirts for his brother to wear. He knew it would be too big but at least it wouldn't press against his wounds. Dean slid the shirt over his head and covered himself sighing in relief. It was over for one more night at least. He glanced up when Sam handed him a couple pain pills along with what looked like antibiotics and a glass of water. He didn't question as he swallowed the pills. Whatever Sam had given him he probably needed. Then Sam took a seat on the other bed facing him. They sat in silence for a few minutes. Dean pretended to be watching the tv as Sam just sat and stared at him. "Dean…" Sam began not sure exactly what to say.

Dean didn't turn to him but he did speak up interrupting his brother. "Don't, Sam. Just don't say it."

Sam opened his mouth to argue but Dean cut him off again as he turned towards him pinning him with as serious a stare as Sam ever remembered seeing on his bother's face. "What I did was my choice, not yours. Everything I got, I brought on myself and whether you like it or not, if I had to, I'd do it again."

Sam shook his head wanting so desperately to refute what his brother was saying. "Damnit, Dean, no one deserves that and I swear to god if you ever try to give up your life for me again I'll..." But he didn't know exactly what he would do.

"You'll what, Sam? Kill me! Just give it up. If I have to die for you I'll do it a hundred times again and nothing you say or do is gonna change that. I can't live if you are dead. I just can't, so do me a favor and try to keep yourself out of trouble a little better. Just because I'm willing to die for you, doesn't mean I'm looking forward to it." With that Dean turned away from his brother and curled up on the bed on his stomach not wanting to argue anymore.

Sam sat for several minutes just staring at his brother's unmoving form but soon he stood and walked from the room quietly. He knew his brother wasn't asleep yet and he also knew he'd wonder what he was up to but there was just something he needed to do.

When he reentered the room he wasn't surprised to see that Dean had switched beds so he could sleep nearest to the door. That was something his brother had always done. Putting himself in between Sammy and any danger that might come at them. He knew he couldn't stop his brother from trying to protect him but at least he could make sure he was better prepared to do so.

He sat on the bed next to Dean and waited for his brother to acknowledge his presence. Soon the older sibling turned his face towards Sam and waited for whatever he wanted to say. Instead of saying anything Sam pulled an item from the duffle he had dropped at his feet and laid it on the bed next to his brother. Dean stared at the familiar object and couldn't hold back his smile as his hand snaked out and grabbed the handle of his beloved Bowie. The knife automatically disappeared under his pillow. "Thanks, Sam," he whispered feeling a slight bit safer with it under there.

Sam nodded and spoke up. "We'll have to swing by dad's storage to get most of your stuff but I kept that and this with me." With that he lifted an old worn leather coat that had been his father's first and then Dean's. Sam had wished on several occasions during the past year that it had been big enough for him to wear, so he could feel closer to those he'd lost but as it was the sleeves just weren't long enough to fit his lanky arms. That hadn't stopped him from keeping it with him though. He placed the coat on the bed next to his brother and Dean's hand that was hidden under the pillow on the Bowie slipped back out and just rested on the worn leather that was softer than any he'd ever felt before. Sammy had taken good care of it. "You know it's just as much yours as it's mine, Sam. He was your dad too."

Sam smiled at that. Neither of them had ever questioned the fact that the jacket would go to Dean. "It fits you, Dean," he answered but then thought to add, "And, Dean, it's Sammy, okay?"

Dean shifted positions on the bed so he could look up to his little brother. He couldn't help the smile that touched his lips. "It's good to be back, Sammy," he whispered with a small smile touching his lips. Sam had to nod in silent agreement.

"There's one more thing that I kept, Dean," he said reaching up and pulling the necklace he was wearing out from under his shirt, where the pendant always rested next to his heart. It had been the one thing of his brother's that he could keep with him at all times and no matter how cold he had tried to become after Dean left he'd never been able to let it go.

Dean stared at the pendant and sighed remembering the Christmas that Sam had given it to him and how much it had meant to him over the years. It was meant to be a present for their dad but once Sammy realized that their dad was for the most part only barely a member of their little family he had given it to Dean, the only person who was always there for him no matter what and the one who had told him the truth about what was really out there.

But Dean couldn't help feeling wrong about taking it back. He hadn't been there for Sammy in the last year and it had turned his little brother into something only half human. He couldn't help feeling like he had let him down. It didn't matter that he had went to hell to save him. As far as he could see if he'd been doing his job better Sammy would have never died to begin with and he would have never had to make that deal at all. "You can keep it, Sammy. It looks good on you." _And I don't really deserve it anymore, _he added silently to himself.

Sam's brow furrowed in confusion. Dean loved that pendant. He never took it off while he was alive. "No, Dean. I gave it to you." Sam felt a moment of panic grip him. He desperately wanted things to go back to how they were before Dean died, no matter how crazy the idea was. He knew that neither he nor Dean could completely be the same as before but there were things that he knew could be, and the familiar things that Dean loved the most were some of the things he never wanted to change. He pulled the necklace over his head being careful not to break the leather cord it was on and then reached out slipping it over his brother's head.

Dean adjusted the necklace so it rested on his chest. He could see the distress his brother felt over the suggestion that he not wear it again and he couldn't stand to see that look in Sammy's eyes. It was a look of fear and though he didn't completely understand where it was coming from, he wouldn't give it a chance to swamp his brother.

Sam sighed in some relief seeing the necklace where it rightfully belonged. The last year had been the most frightening year of his life and he'd never admitted that to anyone. Nothing about life felt right without his brother in it and he had closed himself off not wanting to feel anything but the fear had still been there, just below the surface, taunting him. "Dean, promise me that you're gonna stay this time." Sammy knew it was a stupid thing to ask. Dean couldn't guarantee that he wouldn't die again and Sammy knew it but he still wanted to hear his brother promise. He needed to escape the fear he'd felt and the only way to do that was to make sure his brother stayed with him.

Dean knew if he made that promise to his brother that he might have to break it eventually but he had broken promises to him before. Hadn't he promised to kill Sammy if he ever suspected he was becoming evil? When Meg had possessed Sam, Dean hadn't been able to keep that promise and he knew he never would.

But Sam needed to hear him say this and there had almost never been a time in his life when he'd been able to deny his brother anything. "Yeah, Sammy. I'll do everything I can to stay with you this time, okay." It wasn't a complete promise but it was the closest he thought he could give. He really didn't want to lie to his brother if he could help it. "Now get some sleep, kid. You look almost as tired as I feel." With that Dean lye back down and slid his arm back under the pillow letting his eyelids fall shut. He was completely exhausted and all of the emotions they were trying to deal with were making him feel even more worn than his condition warranted.

Sam smiled at his brother's attempt at mothering him when he was the one who clearly needed taking care of. "Sure thing, Dean," he answered but couldn't help the impulse as he reached out and pulled the covers up on his brother knowing his fever was going up and Dean would soon start feeling chilled. "Wake me up if you need anything." Sam didn't really think he'd sleep that night but he could at least pretend to for Dean's sake. He had way too much on his mind to think sleep would take him anytime soon and he still felt frightened but not quite as much as before. Everything seemed a little better with Dean there and he planned on keeping it that way this time.

Dean answered with a half sleeping murmur, "Sleep, Sammy."

Sam crawled into his own bed and turned facing his brother's bed watching him in the pale moonlight that shown through the window. He could see the slight tremors of movement as he drew in shallow breaths and several times he got up and sat next to him as he noticed his body start to shake while locked in some dream or nightmare. Sam didn't try to wake him, knowing that dreams were the minds way of working through troubles that a person could not deal with in the waking world. But during the times that they seemed to affect him most Sam would reach out one comforting hand and place it on his brother's shoulder hoping that the contact would somehow seep into the dreams and help his brother through them and he did notice that Dean would calm some at the touch. But the fact that the touch didn't wake him showed Sam just how exhausted he really was.

During the times that Sam would actually go back to his own bed he would catch his eyes nearly closing but then he'd feel panic and they'd fly open again searching for Dean and only the sound of his brother's shallow breathing seemed to calm his fear. He knew it would be a long time before he could ever sleep peacefully again. But the lack of sleep was minor compared to the thought of having his brother back and the demanding urge to keep him safe no matter what.

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_Author's Note: Well Sammy gets to be Sammy again. Boy am I happy about that. His whole robot routine sort of creeps me out. Anyhow, even though the boys are back together this fic is far from over. Lilith has plans for our boys and unfortunately for them I won't just leave them in the happy state they are in right now. So next chapter will be up as soon as I can get it ready. All comments will be appreciated._


	4. Never Again!

**Disclaimer:** Yeah! Not mine no matter how many times I claim Dean as my own.

**Author's Note:** I know it's been a couple of weeks since I updated this but I suddenly found myself completely reevaluating exactly where I wanted it to go. At first this fic was only supposed to be a few chapter long with a small plot and lots of brotherly affection. Well I realized after the last chapter that that just wouldn't satisfy me. There were just too many possibilities for a better plotline. That being said I sat down and went over every idea I had in mind for this fic and managed to push them all into an outline of sorts that wasn't as jumbled as my feeble mind had them at the time. So at this time we are looking at around 13 chapters total, unless another plot bunny bites me and I add something else. I guess I should warn that that has happened with almost every fic I have ever written though. So now that I know where I'm going I hope that I should be able to update more regularly. Thanks to everyone who is still reading this. I know the lack of brotherly affection in the last chapter disappointed some of my readers but they just weren't ready for that yet.

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**Chapter: 4 Never Again!**

_Sam woke with a start sitting up, his eyes traveling the semi familiar room, with the distinct feeling that he was not where he was supposed to be. His first thought was to find his brother. Dean should be there with him. But then as the objects he could see became clear in his mind he realized that this was one place he truly did not want to be, and he sure as hell didn't want his brother to be either._

_He moved from the small child's bed nearly pulling the canopy down as the filmy material caught in his hair. Once he found himself free of the pink gauzy cloth he backed away shaking his head in panic. He hadn't been there in over a year and he had never planned on returning to that house ever again. How in the hell had he gotten there? _

_He backed from the room into the hall and turned to look out over the staircase. For just a moment he saw a flash of black disappear at the foot of the steps as if he had caught sight of something in the corner of his eye. _

_He could feel the urge to follow whatever it was he had just seen and as if his feet had a mind of their own he found himself moving steadily down the steps. His mind screamed at him not to go down there. He didn't want to see what was down there. He wanted to leave, to put New Harmony, Indiana completely out of his mind and never let the name even venture into it again._

_But his forward motion did not end and soon he found himself wondering through the now deserted home across the foyer, into the sitting room and down the hall until he stood just outside a set of double doors painted white with small glass squares spaced evenly apart. And he knew that behind those doors were hidden the worst memories of his life. His hand stalled on the door handle as his mind screamed out in rage at being forced to revisit that night a little more than a year before._

_The fight was finally lost as the double doors swung inward on the dining room and he stared in petrified fear seeing black dust scattered across the floor. The dust that was supposed to have been their last defense. Then his eyes traveled further across the wooden floorboard stopping at the spot that was still stained dark with the remnants of his brother's blood. _

_None of this was possible. He and Bobby had burnt the house to the ground, not wanting to leave any part of Dean behind that Lilith or any demon could use against them. But here he was, yet again trapped against his will in the memory of his brother's last moments on earth. No, not his last! Dean was back and very much alive. Whatever this was he couldn't let it pull him into despair._

"_My, the morbid places your mind takes us too," came a familiar voice from behind him. He swung around ripping his eyes from the place of his brother's death and stared at another figure he hadn't seen since that night either. _

_He squinted his eyes in suspicion. "Ruby?"_

_A devious smile lit upon her lips as she closed the doors behind her and leaned against them in a relaxed posture crossing her arms over her chest. But even as she looked relaxed her head twitched to the side and then back almost violently and Sam recognized the action. Every instant of that night was burned into his mind. He reached to his side and realized in dismay that he did not have Ruby's knife there. In automatic reaction he backed away a few steps as the name came to his mouth like a curse. "Lilith!"_

"_Ah, should I be flattered that you remembered, Sammy?" she crooned in delight._

_He had the sudden urge to stride across the room and wrap his hands around her neck in hopes of choking the life from her. But even if this were real he knew it would do him no good. That would only damage the body she inhabited. A body he thought he had burned. "Be flattered if you like, but it's only because I've dreamed of killing you every moment of the past year, and don't call me Sammy."_

"_Touchy aren't we? But at least I do fill your dreams. That's saying something," she answered in a childlike voice with a lecherous grin on her face that did nothing to remind him of a child._

_Sam scowled at the thought and held back the urge to become ill. "But this is different, now isn't it? This isn't my dream."_

"_Oh, this is inside your mind, Sam. There is no doubt about that. I'm just nudging the logistics of what part of your head we are visiting," she answered. "This is after all the last place that we saw each other."_

"_How are you in my dream?" he asked in confusion. No demon had been able to affect him in any way since the night she had failed to kill him. You'd think he'd be immune to her intrusions._

"_That's a good question, Sammy. Probably because you are allowing me to be," she purred ignoring his wish for her not to use his nickname._

"_Yeah right! Why the hell would I do that?" he snorted in derision not bothering to correct her on the name._

"_Probably because I'm the only one that has the answers that you want," she answered letting the smile on her face double in size. It was certainly a hideous thing to see. "Well, the only one who's willing to give them at least. Dean's not being all that cooperative with sharing information these days, now is he?"_

_Sam had to admit to himself at least that she was right about that. Dean was so tight lipped about his time in hell that you'd have thought that it had never happened. But then again, maybe Dean was just trying to forget that it did. But none of that was any of her damn business. "All I need to know is how to find you so I can use Ruby's pig sticker to slice you from neck to navel, you Bitch."_

"_Now, Sam, is that any way to talk to a lady?" she asked making clucking noise with her tongue afterwards. _

"_I don't know. Once I find one I'll ask her," he answered in disgust._

"_That hurts, Sam," she answered in a small pitiful childlike voice. "And to think I was going to help you to understand your brother."_

_Sam shifted nervously at her words. "Why would you want to do that?"_

"_Honestly, for the pure enjoyment of watching your face when you see your brother suffering." The pout she had been wearing turned to something akin to gluttonous glee at the thought._

_Sam turned away from her feeling his insides turning at the images her words invoked._

_She slowly stood away from the doors and walked up behind him so she could whisper carefully over his shoulder. "Come on, Sam. No matter how much it turns your insides to goo, you want to know. You want to know just how much your brother was willing to suffer for you."_

"_You're sick, Bitch," he answered but with a little less conviction._

"_I am, but then again aren't we all? Don't you want to understand what your brother went though? Don't you want to know if he hates you now because of it?" There it was. The one thing that he feared most. How did she know? How could she? But then again she was poking around inside his head, something that he'd have to find a way to put a stop to.  
_

"_Dean's my brother. He could never hate me," he spoke but his voice lacked the conviction he knew he should feel with a statement such as that._

_She pressed in close to his back, not quite touching him as her voice whispered in his ear. "I'm sure you're right. But how will you ever know for sure? He would never admit it if he did. You know that. He's supposed to love you, and always look out for you, right? Always being big brother Dean." She paused for dramatic effect and then continued. "But he is human after all. Humans have been known to succumb to their baser emotions when tested."_

_Sam spun around grabbing her by the upper arms squeezing as tightly as he could, hoping that he'd be able to snap them with just his own strength. "Stop trying to mess with my mind!"_

_Lilith glanced down at where his hands grasped the arms of the body she possessed, well the one she had reanimated at least. "I'm not really here, remember. You can damage this body all you wish, but once this dream is over it will still be all in one piece and I'll be unharmed."_

_Sam growled in frustration and threw her back away from him. Why couldn't he just wake up?_

"_You will wake up, once you've seen what I came to show you," she answered his unasked question pushing herself up off the floor where he had just thrown her._

_Part of his mind was desperate for answers but another part feared what he might learn. It had been one week since his brother had come back from hell and during that week they had walked around each other almost on pins and needles. _

_Sam knew why he couldn't just relax. Guilt was eating him up from the inside out. And fear, god the fear that his brother would somehow hate him after the time he'd spent in hell kept Sam constantly on guard. Always there whenever Dean needed anything, never letting him want for anything. But also never just allowing himself a moment of contentment. He wanted so desperately to just be able to sit with his brother and have a conversation that didn't feel as if there was something devastating lying underneath that would jump up and strike him if he wasn't careful. But conversations like that seemed to be the only ones they could manage anymore. _

_And as far as his brother was concerned Sam had no clue what was going through his mind. The first couple of days after they arrived at Bobby's Dean had slept a lot. Sleeping even through the nightmares that wracked his body. Bobby had insisted upon putting Dean in his own room so Sam could have plenty of quiet and privacy to care for his wounded brother. Those two days had honestly been easier for Sam than the ones that followed. In those two days Sam didn't fear touching his brother and found himself looking for excuses to do just that, just to assure himself that he was flesh and blood and real. Checking on his wounds, testing his forehead for fever or just sitting on the side of his bed rubbing comforting circles at the base of his brother's neck whenever he'd start to show signs of having a nightmare. It had distressed Sam knowing that it seemed to be the only part of his brother's body that he could find that didn't have some kind of wound upon it. But he wouldn't leave him even during the times when his own emotions reared up painfully and he felt as if his heart would break when he would imagine all the pain Dean had suffered._

_Then on the third day Dean seemed to turn a corner and all of a sudden wasn't sleeping that much anymore. That's when Sam had found himself sinking into guilt and recriminations against everything he had done to wrong his brother. He often felt the urge to reach out and touch his brother's hand or smooth the worry lines that adorned his brow but found that the only time he could do so without fear was when he sunk into slumber. When Dean was awake he wore a look of constant introspection as if he was searching for something in his own mind but couldn't seem to find it and the search taxed his brother's mood making him seem unapproachable. _

_Sam knew that his brother's thoughts had to be filled with the memories of the last year. It was the only explanation as to why he refused to speak about his thoughts with anyone. But with every passing moment it seemed as if a chasm was opening up between them and Sam couldn't stand how helpless he seemed to stop it. _

_He had to at least admit to himself that her offer was more tempting than she probably even realized. To know what his brother went though, just maybe he could find a way to help him through it and then just maybe he could make up for his own inadequacies._

_But to admit to this demon that he desperately wanted to take her up on the offer, that would be something he couldn't really imagine doing. But for Dean he would do anything. "Let's just get this over with. I can't stand the sight of you," he settled on after much thought._

_She smiled a feral grin and then slinked over to him until she was not inches before him. Her hand came up and it reminded him of when she had tried to kill him a year before, but he no longer feared that. A bright light flashed throughout the room and then as the light diminished Sam found himself in a very different place._

_He reached out instinctively and grasped at the nearest chain to where he seemed to stand on nothing but darkness. His hand slid right through the chain and he realized that either none of this was real or he wasn't. Either way freaking out over it would only give him a migraine at this point. So instead of worrying about how real anything was he let his eyes search his surroundings until he saw something pale and translucent in the center of the web of chains that surrounded them. He moved closer and as he did the figure became clearer and seemed to take solid shape. "Oh God, Dean!" he cried out starting to rush towards him. As he moved he could not help flinching as bolts of electricity that were reminiscent of heat lightning cascaded throughout the nothingness that surrounded him._

_Just as he reached him and reached out to grasp him, her voice called out from behind him. "Try all you might, Sammy. This is only an image pulled from my own memories." With that his hand sunk through his brother's inert motionless body as if it was only a figment of his imagination._

_Sam pulled his hands back clutching them tightly by his side as he stared down at his brother whose eyes were closed as in death. How ironic. He could feel the tremors of impotent rage coursing though him. So close, he was so close and he could do nothing to save him. And she was standing behind him gloating over everything she had done to his brother. It was almost too much for him to take. He wanted to rip apart this fantasy world she had created in his mind, just as she had ripped apart his own world.  
_

_But instead he turned back to his brother and took in everything he could see. He wasn't sure what exactly he had expected from death or even hell but not this. His brother's body was so pale almost gray in color and there were so many wounds that Sam could only guess had to be caused by the hellhound that had killed him. But worse yet were the chains. At first when Sam had glimpsed him it had seemed as if he was just lying on the chains but with closer inspection Sam could see how the chains ended at his brother's body where his arms and legs were bound in shackles. The shackles he could bear seeing but the two meat hooks that were run through his shoulder and side were more than Sam could take. There was so much blood. His brother's blood. How had she done this to him? He was supposed to be a spirit, not flesh and blood. _

_He knew he should be strong, not giving her the satisfaction of seeing him break. But that just wasn't possible. Not now, not with this sight before him. Tears stung behind his eyes and he knew it wouldn't be long before they pushed their way out and down his cheeks. _

_For several seconds the only sound surrounding them was the clash of lightning but just as Sam thought it couldn't get any worse his brother's eyes flew open. It was easy to see the immediate panic there. His head moved quickly from side to side viewing the desolation around him and then the pain hit him. Sam could see it, could see how his whole body tensed in it and then his mouth opened in a loud piercing yell, "Help!" His body was shaking and the anguish in his eyes was only overshadowed by one emotion. Fear! Sam had never seen that much fear in his brother's eyes before. It was almost as if he stared at someone who was not even his brother. Dean rarely showed any fear, even in the worst of situations but as it were the fear seemed to swamp him. "Oh, God. Help!" his voice echoed through the waste again._

_Sam wanted to call to his brother, he wanted to grab onto him, to hold him and swear he'd save him somehow, but the only word that escaped his now tightening throat was so choked it seemed as if he was drowning in his own tears. "Dean!"_

"_Somebody, help me!" his brother's frantic plea echoed again, and then the worst, the most heartbreaking plea of all. "Sam!" It echoed throughout the expanse around them. A plea for help, for relief, for salvation, and Sam was powerless to help._

_Sam's hands stole out again but as before his fingertips just sunk into his brother's ghostly form. "Dean, I'm so sorry, Dean!" he cried out his entire body trembling with the sobs that had begun to wrack his frame._

* * *

"Sam, Sam, wake up, Dude!" He felt his shoulder being shoved roughly and heard his brother's worried voice and his eyes flew open and he sat straight up in a panic all his own. He stared up at Dean and saw some concern written across his face but not fear as he had just witnessed in his dream.

"Dean!" he said in a voice that broke and wasn't at all surprised to feel tears coursing down his cheeks in torrents. No matter how far the chasm between them had grown over the past week at that moment Sam just didn't care. He reached out instinctively pulling his brother down onto the bed beside him and wrapping his arms around him in a fierce hug.

Dean stiffened slightly as Sam's arms pressed against his healing wounds but he did not pull away. Whatever his brother had been dreaming about had seriously wigged him out and Dean knew better than to just ignore his brother's nightmares. "Sam, what the hell did you dream about?" he asked in concern wrapping his own arms around his brother who had buried his face in Dean's shoulder.

Sam just shook his head letting all the pain and agony of seeing his brother like that pour out of him in the form of his tears. He couldn't speak. He couldn't bring himself to tell Dean what he'd seen. He knew that Dean was hiding all of that from him, probably trying to protect him from the pain and guilt and he also knew that Dean needed to protect him. He couldn't shatter the protective bubble that his brother thought he had erected around him. He just couldn't do that to him. So he stayed silent but vowed to himself that he would never allow Dean to sacrifice himself for him again. Never again!

After several minutes of just holding onto his brother Sam allowed Dean to push him back and look into his face. But Sam couldn't look him in the eye. What would Dean see reflected there? Would it be the horrors of the dream? But Dean was not about to let it go at that. "Sam, what is it? Did you have a vision?" Bobby had assured Dean that Sammy no longer had visions anymore but Dean still worried that just maybe it would all come back to his brother again someday.

Sam spoke up in a shaky voice but shook his head back and forth in the negative. "No, Dean. Just a nightmare."

"Sammy, I have never seen you wake up from a nightmare that freaked before. Not even the ones you had about Jess." He knew whatever his brother had dreamed had to be something big and it had to be something horrendous and he knew horrendous. He'd lived it for a year. He didn't want to imagine Sammy seeing horrendous.

Sam leaned into his brother again hoping that his sudden affectionate demeanor would throw his brother off and divert his attention. Maybe he'd even get Dean to complain about the chick flick moment. "Dean, I don't want to talk." His voice sounded small and afraid even to himself but he didn't care at that point. "Please, just don't go away," he whispered and his words sounded more like a prayer offered up to any god that would listen than the plea it had been spoken as.

Dean caught his breath at that. Sam always wanted to talk. Out of the two of them Dean was the one that stayed silent and brooded. On many occasions Dean had teased his brother about his need to talk to work everything out. Sammy never wanted to just let anything lie. He was so afraid that if left alone even the smallest of problems could escalate into horrors. What could be so horrible that it would keep his brother silent? And where exactly did Sammy think he was gonna go. Of course he wasn't gonna go away. "Sammy, listen to me," he spoke up in a voice slightly harsher than he meant to but he wanted to get his brother's full attention.

Sam leaned away again and did meet Dean's eyes this time wanting to hear what he had to say, but also dreading it. "Little brother, I'm not going anywhere. You are stuck with me, whether you like it or not. At this point there is no Demon, Fangface, Werewolf, Spirit or Creature of any sort that will change that. So quit being such a girl, okay." A small smile tinged his lips knowing full well that Sam was being anything but a girl at that moment. Sam was being Sam, his brother, and even if he didn't want to talk about his nightmare, for the first time since he was back he really felt like they might be able to get back to where they once were before, back to being just Sam and Dean, the Winchester boys who kicked demon ass and took care of what mattered most, family!

Dean still needed time and lots of it. He was remembering more and more of what had happened after he died and a lot of it scared the hell out of him, but he wasn't gonna let it drag him down. He wasn't gonna let it change him forever, and most of all he wasn't gonna let it keep him from figuring out what Lilith had planned for Sammy. But at that moment none of that could matter to him. For the first time since he was back Sammy was looking at him like he did when they were growing up. It wasn't uncomfortable, it wasn't tense, and most of all it didn't seem as if they were waiting for the other shoe to drop. It was just two brothers who had missed each other while they were separated. It was good.

Sam snorted in humor at his brother's cut down and couldn't help the smile that touched his lips. That was his brother, the Dean that he had thought he had lost forever. The one that he wasn't sure could even come back after his body had. But there he was and Sam sure as hell was gonna make sure he stayed. "Jerk!" he bit out knowing what his brother's reaction would be.

"Bitch!" Dean came back with. "Come on Samantha. I'm getting hungry and I'm beginning to think that Bobby doesn't know how to cook anything but mac and cheese." With that he stood and held his hand out to help his brother up. Then again mac and cheese was better than ham on rocksalt.

Sam took the offered hand and couldn't help but saying, "Does that mean you're cooking?"

"No, that means you are cooking. I'm still recuperating," he answered devishly.

"Maybe I oughta go for take out," Sam suggested. He had never been the best of cooks. Dean had always prepared any meal that they didn't get at a diner or fast food joint. "I hear food poisoning isn't exactly good for the ill and infirm."

Dean chuckled at that but a dark look passed over his eyes. "Nah, stay here. I think I can choke down Bobby's mac and cheese one more time." For just a moment there he had felt panic at the idea of Sam leaving to go anywhere without him, even if it was just down the street for take out.

The look didn't go unnoticed either as Sam nodded in agreement. "Yeah, good idea," he whispered in agreement and then followed his brother from the room.

* * *

_A/N: Seriously hoping that chapter made up for what the last one lacked. I will warn though that the boys have a lot more heartache and pain to face before the end. So comments? Good or bad_!


	5. Back In The Game

**Disclaimer:** One of these days I'll have one of my very own but for right now they aren't mine.

**Author's Note:** I do realize that my updating is a little slow right now and the only excuse I have is the fact that I'm fighting off writer's block and it's just not fun. I promise to keep updating this, and to finish my Charmed story that I left hanging very soon.

* * *

**Chapter 5: Back In The Game  
**

Finally, he had made it. It had taken perfect timing and a well-placed distraction but here he was. Just a snip and a couple of twists and he'd have the Impala hotwired and ready to go. And man did he want to go. Three weeks. Neither of them had let him out of their sight for three whole weeks now, and they just didn't seem to realize just how unnerving it was to wake up to someone staring at you while you slept. He couldn't count the times that he had woke to one of them checking his wounds or feeling his forehead for fever. It was downright embarrassing to be mollycoddled like that. He understood that they cared and it meant a lot to him that they did but still… the touchy feely stuff was really beginning to creep him out.

He had to admit though that after Sammy had had that nightmare it had freaked him out and he'd done some of his own hovering around his brother. And Sam sure did look like he had needed him to stay as close as possible and what disturbed him most was the fact that Sam had yet to say anything else about the nightmare. His brother wasn't the one that usually hid his emotions. That was Dean's MO, not Sammy's. So the fact that Sam hadn't eventually come to him to talk about it worried him. Part of him wondered if the year without him had just changed his brother enough to make him more introverted, but it still didn't sit right with him. In every other aspect of their lives Sammy seemed to be trying as hard as possible to make things just the same as they were before he had died. For that he had to give silent thanks to his brother. During those first two days when he had been back and he'd had to prove himself to both Bobby and Sam it had been so difficult. He was hurt and needed their support desperately and the fact that it had taken so much effort to gain that support hadn't made things any easier on him.

Now though he had all the support they could offer and in his opinion maybe too much. They had gone way beyond support and were now hovering in the realm of smothering him. That was why he had come up with this elaborate plan to get away and he was almost there too.

He was just seconds from true freedom; the freedom of the open road and his baby purring beneath him. He had to admit that Sam had taken real good care of her, and he had even agreed to leave the trunk as is, well for now at least. There was only so much neat organization that one man could take.

He couldn't help the silly grin that covered his face as the engine turned over and he felt the deep vibrations rock his body. Oh what sweet music it was to his ears.

Speaking of music, this was the first time he had been back in the Impala since the trip from Wichita back to Bobby's, and he had slept through most of that drive. Now that he glanced around he noticed one big difference in his pride and joy. The cassette player had been swapped out for a new stereo that featured a cd player. There was a cd case in between the seats and he was almost afraid to open it knowing his brother's taste in music, but if he was gonna do this he'd have to have tunes to jam to. He opened the case gingerly like it was a snake that might bite him and started to gingerly flip through the pages.

He wasn't surprised at all to see a couple Bon Jovi cds in the first set of slots, but as he flipped the page he was surprised to see AC/DC, Black Sabbath, Motorhead and all of his old favorites there. Damn if his brother hadn't picked up some of his good tastes finally. There were also groups that he'd barely even heard of, Nickelback, Green Day, Linkin Park. Those he just slipped on by.

He ran his fingers over the new cds and remembered the first time his brother had criticized his taste in music. It seemed like ages ago.

He was completely lost in thought causing him to jump nearly out of his skin as the passenger door opened. A groan escaped his lips as Sam slid effortlessly into the seat. "Hey, Dean, you going somewhere?" Sammy asked in a way too friendly manner.

Dean gave him a look that clearly shouted, '_are you kidding me_,' then with a straight face "Actually, I was sleepwalking. It's a damn good thing you came along and woke me up."

Sam nodded as if it was the most sensible answer in the world. "Ain't it awesome that you can hotwire a car while sleeping? You have got to teach me that trick someday."

Dean turned away staring out the windshield and muttered under his breath, "I wouldn't have had to hotwire it if you hadn't hidden my damn keys."

"So is this a long trip or a short trip we are taking?" Sam asked in as conversational a tone as he could muster.

Dean glanced at him and couldn't help the smile that played at the corners of his lips. "You mean you aren't gonna stop me?"

"Yeah right. Once Bobby realizes that you sent him on a wild goose chase there is no way in hell I'm gonna stick around here," came his reply.

"You do have a point. This should be a short trip," Dean answered handing the cd case to Sam and then pushed the shifter into gear giving his baby some gas. There was no way in hell he'd admit it to Sam but just the thought that his brother was going with him made this so much better. The only reason he had waited as long as he had to affect his escape was his reluctance to leave Sammy behind.

"By the way, what exactly is in that new wreck they brought in last night? I know there is no way in hell it's a malevolent spirit," Sam asked leafing through the cds trying to decide what Dean would most want to hear right then.

Somehow Dean had convinced Bobby that the newest addition to his salvage yard was infested with something wholly unnatural. This of course had caused Bobby to insist that Dean stay near the house while he checked it out himself. Sam had been smart enough to keep away from the whole ordeal not wanting to be pulled into the ruse Dean had set up so he could make his escape. Dean couldn't force the devious smile from his face as he answered. "Looked like a family of skunks. I sure hope Bobby doesn't shoot first and ask questions later. They were sort of cute but if he pisses that momma off, well we'll want this to be a long trip after all."

Sam couldn't suppress his laughter while imagining Bobby storming into the house smelling like that. "Bobby is going to kill you, you do know this right?" Sam asked as Dean pulled the Impala onto the dirt road that led to the highway.

Dean just smiled. "Nope, we have an agreement."

"An agreement?" Sam questioned curiously.

"Yep, I'm gonna live forever and between you and Bobby I expect all the help I can get with pulling that one off," he answered only half jokingly. He may not be able to live forever but he'd stuff as many good years on earth in as he could possibly get before he had to return to the pit.

Sam stared at his brother for a moment but didn't want to bring up the awkward subject of what hell was really like again. He had tried a couple of times before the nightmare but Dean refused to talk about it, even though whenever it was even mentioned all light seemed to fade from his brother's eyes and it was frightening to see his brother's normal façade crack like that. "Well we could always go and dig up old Doc Benton, if you like."

Dean gave his brother a disgusted look. He wasn't that desperate to stay out of hell. But still, he could play along. "Give me another thirty years and ask me again, okay."

"Sounds fair," Sam answered. "So, where are we going?"

"I saw an article on the internet last night. There seems to be some strange ritualistic killings going on in Denver. I thought I might go and see if it's our kind of gig," Dean answered. He glanced at Sammy and saw an angry glare light his face. "I really would have called you if it turned out to be something, so don't get mad at me."

Sam nodded believing that Dean would have called him if he needed him, but then what his brother wanted to do hit him. "Wait. Okay, bad subject and all, but you spent the last year in hell and the first thing you think of when you get back on your feet is going on a hunt?"

Dean glanced at his brother and shrugged.

Sam's head shook back and forth in disbelief. "I really figured you'd be more into doing something you enjoyed. Maybe a trip to Vegas, or something entertaining at least, but a hunt?"

Dean smirked at that and realized the only answer he could give. "You might be able to take the hunter out of the hunt, Sammy, but you sure as hell can't take the hunt out of the hunter." He gave his brother a devil may care smile and couldn't help the laughter when Sam just groaned in response. "Look, even if I went to Vegas, or Atlantic City, Reno, heck even Hawaii I'd still manage to find something evil to kill. So what difference does it make? I know what's out there and it's a lot more abundant than we ever realized before. So don't blame me if I choose to go after the devil before it gets a chance to come after me first."

Sam was a little startled at his statement and he couldn't help but ask. "What do you mean by more abundant?"

Dean had picked up some useful tips about demons while he was languishing in his vacation spot in hell. "Sam, think of it this way. If every person who has ever went to hell, for whatever reason, eventually becomes a demon, how many of them do you think are actually walking our planet in some poor fool's meat suit?"

Sam hadn't thought about it that way. They had seen quite a lot of demon activity in their time but nothing had led him to believe that the demon world was so vast. "Really, that many, huh?"

"Well a lot of them are still in hell since they haven't figured out how to get out yet. But the ones that do, like Meg and Yellow Eyes, well they are the strong ones. They are the ones that are a danger to us and everyone else. We just haven't figured out how to recognize them all yet." Dean had a feeling though that his time in hell would probably come in handy for doing just that. His year down there had honestly felt more like an eternity. He figured that Lilith did something to make it seem that way just to prolong the agony he had lived through. It had been a real surprise to him when he discovered that it had only been a year. Other than suffering inexplicable torture he had spent some of his time wisely though. Studying demons, getting to know their ins and outs and what made them tick. Something told him that he'd know one if he saw it now that he was back. But he didn't think he'd tell Sammy about that just yet. Might be best to test that theory first.

* * *

"Dean, are you sure about this?" Sam asked glancing over at his brother who for the last hour hadn't made even one sound. It looked to Sam as if he was concentrating too hard on the couples leaving the bar they were staking out. "I mean with this type of demon there won't be any way for us to be sure until it's actually in the process of killing it's next victim."

Dean shook his head and glanced over at his brother from the passenger seat. "Sam, I know this is a tough one but I just have a feeling about it, okay. And besides we know that every victim spent their last night alive at this bar."

They had been in Denver for nearly a week and had learned enough to know that this was their type of gig but they had yet to find the demon they were looking for. Going by the ritualistic symbols they had found at the last murder scene Sam had done some digging and discovered that they were dealing with a demon who could shift his appearance at will into the form of any person he had ever touched before. So all of the eyewitness accounts of men that the women had left the bar with were useless. The demon could be anyone and the only similarities between the victims were that they were pretty and blonde. That description covered over half the women leaving the bar. It was like hunting for a needle in a haystack. "Dude, how are we gonna know what we are looking for when we see it?"

_I just will, okay. Please don't ask me Sammy. I don't want you to worry about me._ Dean had to look away from his brother with those thoughts. This whole coming back from hell thing and seeing ways that he had changed was beginning to get old in Dean's book. He didn't want to be changed. He just wanted to be plain old Dean, what he'd been before. And most of all he didn't want Sam to see the changes in him either. He just wasn't quite sure that Sammy could take it. He glanced up ready to just say something to placate his brother's concerns when something caught his attention at the corner of his eye. "Wait, ain't that the bartender?" he asked turning his full attention on the sandy haired no name bartender they had questioned days earlier.

Sam had noticed his brother's evasive behavior and was just about to call him on it but Dean's words pulled his attention to the front of the bar where the bartender was just locking up for the night. "Yeah, we already talked to him, Dean."

He could see the squint in his brother's eyes as if he was trying really hard to see something that was difficult to see. "Follow him."

Sam screwed up his face in confusion at that. "What? Dean, why?"

Dean turned to him and Sammy could see some of the old 'do as I say, Sammy' attitude that he was used to seeing in his brother's eyes. "Just do it, Sam."

But Sam wasn't ready to follow blindly this time around. "What, you think he's our guy? But he's alone, Dean. No victim."

Dean licked his lips and swallowed a little too hard. What could he say to convince his brother? What could he say that would not make him sound nuts? "Sam, just trust me on this one, okay. Something in my gut is telling me that he's our guy."

Sam stared long and hard at his brother and remembered too many times when he had asked Dean to trust his instincts. Dean had always trusted him too, even on some of the crazier stuff. But Dean wasn't him. Sammy had always trusted Dean because Dean knew what he was doing. He was a damn good hunter, who knew how to read the signs and most always could find a sound reason for everything he said or did. It was very rare that Dean based his decisions just on gut instinct but he was Dean and Sam did trust him. "Okay, Dean. We can check him out."

Dean smiled brightly. That was easier than he thought it would have been. "Thanks, Sammy."

* * *

"Dean, stop. What the hell are you doing?" Sam asked grabbing his brother's arm trying to pull him back but Dean just shrugged the arm off intent on what he was doing.

At first he had been shocked into inaction when Dean had grabbed the bartender right outside his front door and forced him into the house at knifepoint no less. Ruby's knife to be exact which Sam hadn't even realized Dean had retrieved from the Impala's trunk.

Dean ignored Sam's question as he shoved the now petrified man into his own living room pushing him into a chair with the knife pressed up against his throat. "You know what this is, so I suggest you keep very, very still, you slimy bastard."

"Dean, dude, have you lost it?" Sam moved up beside him grabbed his arm again trying to pull the knife away from the man's throat.

Dean shrugged Sam's hands off never letting the knife leave its resting place and never taking his eyes off the eyes of his captive. "Did you think I wouldn't see you? Did you think you'd be safe from me? None of you sons of bitches are safe from me anymore," he growled ignoring the man's simpering cries for release.

Sam knew he'd have to act very soon before his brother did something they would both regret. He had never even guessed that this wild, crazed, obsessed, hunter would be the result of his brother after hell. He could expect a broken Dean, or even a bitter Dean, but a completely insane Dean had been the farthest from his mind. "Dean, please stop this! He's not our guy," Sam pleaded but did not attempt to grab the knife arm again. One slip and this innocent would be a corpse and Sam knew that Dean wouldn't be able to recover from that kind of drastic mistake.

Dean had heard his brother. He had actually heard everything that Sammy had said to him, but being preoccupied with his current demon prey, he hadn't bothered to answer. But the tone in Sam's voice when he said that did draw Dean's attention. He split his attention between the man in front of him and his brother just barely glancing to the side at Sam. "Oh believe me, Sam, he's our monster alright." Then he turned his attention completely back to the still crying man. "Aren't you, friend?" With that he patted the man's chest in a friendly manner and the man yelped in seeming fear.

"Dean, look at him. He's petrified. That is no demon," Sam's voice raised in a panic all its own. With that he moved forward again very slowly with his hands held out in a non-threatening manner. "You have to listen to me, Dean. You're seeing demons where there aren't any." With that Sam placed one hand easily on his brother's arm and pulled it back gently.

Dean glanced at his brother and shook his head but allowed his brother to pull him back anyway. Sam managed to pull his brother around so he was facing him and he ran his hand down his arm till it rested on the knife. "Let me have it, Dean."

Dean looked up into Sam's face and the disappointment was evident there along with a fair amount of pain. "I thought you trusted me, Sammy."

Sam flinched slightly at the accusatory statement but he knew stopping his brother's rampage was more important than his hurt feelings. "Dean, I trust you with my life, but I think you're just a little confused right now."

Dean nodded licking his lips and then ended in catching the bottom lip in between his teeth chewing for just a moment. Anyone who knew dean well would have known that it was a sign of him mulling something over, trying to make a hard decision and Sam did know his brother very well and hoped he would come to a sane conclusion. After just a few moments of thought he nodded once and spoke up with a smirk covering his lips. "Am I really, Sam?" Just as his brother's name left his lips he swung back around with a silver flask of holy water in the hand that had been empty just moments before.

Before Sam could even think to grasp his brother's arm the holy water flew out splattering across the still weepy figure in the chair. But to Sam's utter surprise steam started to rise from the man and his weepy crying turned into a guttural yell of pain. Dean turned back to Sam and quipped. "That Sam, in case you hadn't noticed, is a demon." But he didn't want to give up the small advantage he had in the knife he held so yet again he quickly leaned into the demon pressing the blade against it's throat.

After the steam had slowed the bartender turned his gaze upon Dean with those black soulless eyes he knew it would possess. "What gave me away?"

"Your sulfur breath. You really should see a doctor about it. It's quite offending," Dean quipped back at the demon smiling through the sarcasm.

"Real funny, Dean. Can I call you Dean? Or maybe Hell Bitch. Yeah, I like the sound of that. It's got a nice ring to it, and after all isn't that all you really are?" the demon answered throwing back barbs of his own.

Dean snarled and pushed the knife just a little bit further. The blade bit into the demon's throat ever so slightly and electric current could be seen skating along the blade. "Who's the Bitch now, Bitch?"

"Ah, ah, now you don't want to ruin this poor fool's meat suit, now do you? He might not really appreciate that," it answered in a gloating tone knowing Dean wouldn't risk the innocent no matter what.

"No, don't really want to do that. Sam, you got that exorcism handy?" Dean asked, not bothering to look back to his brother.

Sam stood in complete shock and had only barely heard his brother's request. How had he been so wrong? He should have never doubted his brother but there were no signs, nothing pointing to the bartender as the demon.

"Sam, an exorcism would be nice right about now," Dean growled through clenched teeth never taking his eyes from the demon.

"Oh right, yeah," Sam said nervously as he pulled an overly used notebook from an inside pocket of his coat. The words in Latin started to float from his lips as if they were the most natural words in any language.

The demon began to flinch and shift anxiously in Dean's grasp but he did not let go knowing that without a devil's trap he would be fair game for the demon without the threat of the demon killing knife.

After several seconds of violent spasms the demon's head fell back and both brothers expected the normal rush of black smoke like substance from the demon's mouth. This caused Sam to pause in the exorcism in anticipation but the tell tale smoke never surfaced and the demon's voice could be heard throughout the room. "You may send me back to hell, Winchester, but I'll see you again there soon enough."

Dean smirked at that notion and shoved roughly against the demon again. "Not likely!"

The demon's head lowered and his eyes locked with those of his captor's. "You think not, and what of your deal? You still belong to her and she'll have you whenever she wants you."

"No, he fulfilled his deal. She already took him. Nothing said he had to stay below," Sam answered confidant that he was completely correct and Lilith couldn't just come for Dean whenever she pleased.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that. New deals are struck every day on earth and in hell. I'll see you again, Dean, and next time I'll be the one having fun." The demon's voice had taken on a knowing tone as if there was so much more he was hiding that they just did not realize.

"What do you mean 'new deals'?" Sam asked angrily pushing closer to the demon. "Dean, what does he mean?"

Dean's face had taken on a rather pensive look as he stared at the demon his face only inches from its own. "I don't know, Sam. Just finish the exorcism."

His voice came out a little less confident and a little quieter with this and Sam couldn't help stare. "Dean?"

"Just finish it, Sam," came a rougher, slightly angry reply. But just as his words finished the demon's head snapped back again and a large stream of black billowing smoke flew from the bartender's mouth and up through the a.c. vent in the ceiling.

Dean immediately pulled the knife back and checked the nameless bartender for a pulse. His fingers rested at the base of the man's throat for several moments but there was just nothing there. "Damnit," he cursed kicking at the chair leg as he straightened up. "I should have just knifed it. Then it would be destroyed completely."

Sam stared down into the man's lifeless eyes and couldn't help but wonder just how the demon had killed him. They couldn't see any obvious wounds upon his skin. "You didn't know, Dean."

"I should have," he whispered angrily to himself and then turned to stalk from the room.

"What, Dean?" Sam called and followed his brother from the house heading towards the Impala.

Once they were in the car Dean continued his rant. "And what the hell was that. You didn't even get to finish the exorcism. How are we supposed to know if it's in hell or not?"

"I don't know. I guess stick around for a few more days. Make sure there aren't any more deaths. That's all we can really do," Sam answered staring out into the dark night but the silence didn't last long. "Dean, what did he mean by that?"

Dean glanced to his brother and shook his head. "How am I supposed to know, Sam?"

Sam turned to him with a rather incredulous look. "Oh, I don't know, maybe the year you spent down there."

_Low blow there, Sammy,_ Dean thought bitterly. "I've already told you and Bobby both, I don't remember a lot of it."

Sam knew he shouldn't push it, but the events from the evening were pressing in on him and confusing him. Nothing had gone like he'd expected it and Dean's actions had seriously freaked him out. He knew he should just drop it, but at the moment that was the furthest thing from his mind. "Well you sure as hell don't say anything about what you do remember."

Dean finally looked him full in the face and it was easy to see that pained expression back in his eyes and the moment he saw it Sam felt like kicking himself. "No, Sam, I don't, and to be honest with you, I never will, so just drop it." His voice trembled slightly at the last two words and he turned away again starting the Impala and shifting it into gear.

"Listen, Dean, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say something like that. I'm just confused right now," Sam tried to explain but his brother didn't turn back to look at him and he could see the iron set of Dean's jaw and knew he wasn't gonna get another sound from him that night.

* * *

_A/N: Yeah, I know. They are mad at each other again. I just can't leave them happy for too awful long, now can I? Comments appreciated._


	6. Being Needed

**Disclaimer**: I may own lots of pretty demon hunting weapons but none of them are nice to cuddle with like Dean or Sam so nope I guess that means they aren't mine.

**A/N:** Well the next chapter is here and I'd have to admit it is a large one. One of my largest yet, actually. And I really enjoyed writing it. It just took me some time to get it just right. So that being said, I hope you all enjoy. By the way, Lilith is one sick bitch, even for a demon.

* * *

**Chapter 6: Being Needed**

It had been a month since that first hunt and nothing had gone right since then. Oh they hunted and the hunts were good. Dean was really getting back into the swing of things and hunting even better than he ever had before. But Sam could steadily see their tight knit brotherhood floating down the drain with every new hotel room and every new hunt. For the most part Dean hunted as if he was on a mission, but a mission alone. Never letting Sam in on what he was thinking or for that matter telling him anything that he might need to know.

Painfully Sam realized that he was seeing his father appearing all over again but in the form of his older brother. The hunt was now an obsession. They fled from town to town never stopping for any longer than it took to sleep a few hours and then it was on to the next hunt. Ironically he couldn't help but wonder if this is what he'd been like during the year that Dean had been gone and the answer was probably so. But Dean wasn't alone. Sam was right there but somehow he felt almost invisible.

They were in another nondescript motel in some town that Sam hadn't even noticed the name of when they'd entered during the early morning hours. When he'd asked Dean about the latest hunt the only answer he'd gotten was possible demon activity. Well hell, he could have figured that out on his own. They never seemed to hunt anything else but demons anymore. Sam had found several possible hauntings and even a possible poltergeist during the last month but Dean had always shook his head and directed them towards yet another demon hunt even if it was farther away than the jobs that Sam had found.

Several times he had wanted to just scream at his brother, to punch him, hit him, kick him, to do anything that might pull him from his single minded purpose but every time he got even slightly close to him Dean had looked at him with this strange expression. It was almost as if he was pleading with Sam to just let it be. Let him be and Sam got the distinct impression that if he pushed too hard his brother might just break and Sam just wasn't sure what he'd do if that happened. He had never seen his brother break. Even since returning from hell Dean had put forth that tough exterior that Sam was so used to and even though he was sure that most of it was just an act, it was an act that they both needed. So Sam remained silent and just let it be. A mistake he would soon realize he should have never made.

Even Sam knew that Dean's crazy, obsessed, demon hunting, lucky streak couldn't hold out forever. And in this tiny town that Sam couldn't even remember the name of their luck ran out at the worst possible time.

* * *

"Come on, Sam, move," Dean called pulling his brother along the dirt path that would lead them back to the Impala and back to what he hoped would be safety. He wasn't sure if he'd read the signs wrong or if there had just been more than one evil in this town to face but instead of finding the demon he expected in the deserted plantation home they had just left, they had found a severely pissed off poltergeist. Unfortunately they had gone in prepared for a demon and found themselves without the proper tools to handle the malevolent spirit.

To make matters worse they had become separated and by the time Dean had made his way to the Impala to retrieve the items he needed to purify the house, and then performed the ritual necessary, Sam had been shoved into the dumbwaiter and hurled down three flights where the too small box had shattered into a million pieces in the basement leaving a bloodied Sammy in the ruble.

He could see the Impala up ahead and breathed a sigh of relief seeing as how Sam seemed to be leaning more and more heavily on him. It didn't take long to shove his brother's long frame into the passenger seat and then he gunned the engine sending them screaming down the road into the dark night.

It wasn't a guarantee that the ritual had worked so he wanted to get his brother as far away as fast as he could just in case there was a vengeful spirit leftover.

Once they were far enough away Dean glanced to his brother and asked in a shaky voice. "You okay, Sam?"

Sam shifted in the seat and Dean could see the painful wince this brought about, but his brother's eyes did seem clear as he turned to answer him. "Yeah, Dean. Just some bruised ribs I think."

"Damn, that was close. You need a doctor?" Dean asked still worried for his brother. Somehow he had managed to forget hunts like this when one or both of them winded up hurt in the end but seeing Sam now it all came crashing back to his senses and he could feel panic overtaking him.

Sam didn't answer immediately. He didn't think he needed a doctor. He knew he'd been hurt a lot worse on other occasions but there was something he did need. Something he thought they both needed. "I don't need a doc, Dean. I just need some time to rest."

Dean nodded thrumming his thumb against the steering wheel. "Okay, next town we'll get a room and take a break. You can rest all you want and I'll look for the next hunt."

Sam shook his head even though the motion was painful. "No, Dean. I need a break. A real break. I want to go back to Bobby's. Regroup."

Dean scoffed at that notion. "Sam, we can't stop now. We're on a roll. Look at all the demons we've sent back to hell recently."

Sam glared at his brother for a moment. "No, Dean, you're on a roll. I'm just along for the ride, and I need to get off for a while, before something really terrible happens."

Dean glanced down at his brother's hand which was holding his ribs tightly and then his eyes traveled up to Sam's face and took in the minor cuts and scrapes that littered his skin. Damnit, he was screwing up, taking too many risks with his brother's life. What could he say? Somehow 'I'm sorry,' just sounded way too lame to his own ears. So instead he settled for, "Okay, Sam. Whatever you want."

Sam sighed in relief seeing that his brother wasn't gonna fight him on this and then he leaned his head back on the seat thinking he'd take a short nap as Dean drove them back to Bobby's place. He knew it would be a long drive and they'd have to stop for the night a couple of times but just the thought of being somewhere that he felt safe brought a smile to his lips and lulled him into sleep's waiting arms.

* * *

_As his eyes fluttered open he glanced around the room he was in and a groan left his lips. "What the hell, Dean. I said no doctor."_

_He was surprised when he was able to sit up and found no I.V. or monitors attached to his body. As a matter of fact, even though he knew for a fact that he was in a hospital room, he wasn't even dressed in one of those ridiculous open-ended gowns. Then he heard it. Or rather he didn't hear it. He heard absolutely nothing. No doctors or nurses rushing through the halls, no beeping contraptions that he was positive were designed as torture devices to keep a patient from gaining a decent night's sleep. No crying patients. No food carts rolling up and down the halls. Nothing at all that he would associate with a normal hospital._

_"I'm dreaming," he finally decided, "but why this?"_

_"Don't you recognize it?" came a soft purring voice from the doorway._

_His eyes closed and he had to force down the urge to spring from the bed and find anything at all that he could use to cut out the tongue that was making that sound. "Is this fun for you?" he finally asked once the murderous rage subsided to a dull roar situated somewhere deep in his gut._

_"Oh my yes, Sammy, it is," she answered in a more than gleeful voice. "But as I asked, don't you recognize this room?"_

_He glanced around him and saw nothing that was out of the ordinary for any hospital room in the country. But then his eyes caught sight of something on the floor just beyond the foot of the bed. He stood and made his way to it, bending over and almost touching the triangle shaped pointer resting on the familiar ouija board._

_When it dawned on him he stood up quickly and glanced back to the bed knowing that the last time he had seen it Dean had been laying in it. His brother had nearly died in that bed. He had stood in the doorway, where she stood now, as the doctors had to shock him back to life. He had nearly lost everything that night. If Dean had died there wouldn't have been any coming back. He would have truly been gone and Sam would have been lost, wholly unprepared for everything they had faced since then. He could feel the horrible emptiness that he'd felt that night crowding in on him but he knew he had to force it back and face her otherwise she would win this round. Yes, this round. He knew she was playing games with him. He had had over a month to think it over and it was the only sensible conclusion. She couldn't beat him in the real world so instead she'd attempt to break him down in the dream world. "You'd think a demon as powerful as you would have better things to do than this."_

"_Oh, but I like doing this," she answered pushing away from the doorframe and moving up right next to him. She leaned in not daring to touch him and whispered. "I think I'm developing quite the crush on you, Sammy. Your pain is rather addictive."_

"_You know, I won't let you have him back," Sam said changing directions on her hoping to trip her up. _

_But this only brought a smile to her lips. "Sammy, do you know how much I liked having Dean down there? He was my favorite, you know. I gave him special attention that I've never given any of the others."_

_Sam cringed at the words 'special attention.' Somehow he knew that Dean probably hadn't appreciated his special status as her favorite. "How did he beat you?" he asked hoping to send her into a rage._

"_Beat me?" she asked rather coyly as if she had no clue what he was talking about._

"_He's out isn't he, so how did he do it?" Sam asked rubbing it in. _

"_Oh, Sam, you have so much to learn, but I don't want to talk about that right now. I'd much rather show you something I truly enjoyed about my time with your brother," she purred not even flinching at Sam's dig. This disappointed him and for some reason he was almost positive he didn't want to see what she wanted to show him._

"_I think I'll pass this time," he answered walking away from her and closer to the bed. He couldn't quite pry his eyes from the soft surface._

"_You can pass, Sam. But if you do you'll never get the answers you want. It's all or nothing. If you want to know how you got your brother back you gotta see the whole picture." Her voice had taken on a singsong quality and he had to choke back the urge to beat her into a bloody pulp, reminding himself once again that he couldn't really hurt her in his dreams._

_That first time he had honestly just wanted to know what his brother had went through so he could understand and maybe find a way to get them back to being brothers again but now… He didn't have to know how Dean got out. It really didn't matter, just as long as he was alive. But the nagging feeling in the back of his mind that something horrible was gonna happen and it was all tied to Dean's time in hell, just wouldn't go away. "Show me then," he said with as much disdain in his voice as he could muster._

"_Gladly," then that bright white light again and Sam found himself in that barren black nothingness. This time he didn't stumble or try to grasp out for the chains but instead moved straight ahead knowing instinctively where his brother's form was before he could even see it._

_This time though, things were very different. The barren black nothingness faded into a landscape that shook him to his very core and took his breath away. The darkness gave way to a dull gray light and that light illuminated what was before him. To each side of him were mounds of bone. Skulls, femurs, ribcages, every bone of any shape and size could be seen haphazardly piled together with bits and pieces of human flesh still attached here and there. And blood, so much blood with the contrast between solid white expanses and bright red streaks here and there. He forced his eyes down wanting to block out the ghastly site but saw the very ground he stood on was made of the same jumbled waste. His foot landed on what looked like the skull of a small child and it crunched below his shoe scattering into bone dust, which sunk into a pool of blood forming a blood red paste squishing below his feet._

_The urge to vomit overtook him quickly and it was all he could do to push the queasy feeling down and look back up, forcing the landscape around him to become nothing but mottled colors in his mind's eye, pushing away the knowledge of what was really there. Once he had thoroughly convinced himself to ignore the sights around him he purposefully strode ahead seeking the only sight there that he truly wanted to see. _

_But once he found that sight he wished he had never endeavored to find it. There slumping against one of the mounds of bone was the image of his brother. His skin matched the gray color of the sky above him and his head hung forward so his eyes could not be seen. He wore only a simple pair of jeans and Sam's eyes traveled down his form and could see that there were no longer any vicious rips in his skin from the claws of the hellhounds, but scars covered his skin in places both familiar and unfamiliar to Sam's eyes. The Dean in his waking world had scars but not in the same pattern and he had to wonder where these had gone. But what truly disturbed him was the bit of white that pierced his skin below his ribcage on the right side. His brother was actually skewered upon what looked like a broken femur protruding from the mound of bone effectively holding him still for any demon that wished to torment him._

"_This is only about three months in. Your brother was still oh so stubborn here. It was some of my favorite times with him," she whispered next to him and Sam had to flinch at the sound._

_As Sam watched another figure slid from behind the mound of bones and snaked her way next to his brother's unmoving body. He could see that it was her and wanted to question but the voice from beside him reminded… "Remember, it's just my memory. Neither of them knows we are here."_

_The memory image of Lilith pressed up close to Dean placing one hand lightly against the crook of his neck. Her voice came out like honey but her words brought only bitter thoughts. "Poor pitiful little Dean. So much pain, so much agony, how long will you last?"_

_His voice seemed strained but his spirit could still be heard in the quivering words. "I've got eternity, but something tells me you'll get bored before then."_

"_Never, Dean. I'll never tire of your screams." With that her hand ran along the base of his throat while razor sharp nails cut through the skin leaving behind lines of blood in their wake. As her hand rested below his chin she pulled it up to look into his ghostly pale face. _

_Sam could feel his heart constrict at the sight. His eyes looked so vacant, devoid of any and all emotions but still a flinch fluttered through his features as her nails dug into each side of his chin and blood began to slide down the pale white skin of her hand. "Will you scream for me today, Dean?"_

_He viciously pulled his face from her grip causing even more blood to splatter across her face before him. This only brought a smile to her lips as she allowed the bloodied hand to hover before her features for only a moment before placing one of the clawed fingers against her lips. Her tongue darted out tasting the blood there and a chuckle of delight bubbled from her throat. "Your blood tastes like pure ambrosia. Have you ever tasted blood before, Dean?"_

_Dean didn't turn back to her but his voice did not fail him. "Not yet, but why don't you get me Ruby's knife and I'll slit that pretty little neck of yours for you. I'd gladly drink a toast to your end."_

_The look on her face became enraged with that and she moved in closer to him placing a hand upon each side of his stomach and leaning into him so her breath would caress his ear as she spoke. "Such bravery, such bravado. Too bad it's all for nothing. You belong to me now, Dean Winchester, and no one will ever save you."_

_He tried to pull his face as far from hers as possible feeling the disgust of her touching him in anyway. "Sammy…" his voice creaked out desperately but she didn't let him finish that sentence._

"…_failed you," she answered for him. "He promised to save you, Dean. I didn't see him rescuing you as my pets ripped your skin from your bones."_

"_He will," came his angered reply._

"_Will he? Your brother will give up on you, Dean. He'll give up and he'll go on with his life, leaving you to rot. You know he will," she insisted leaning against him in what almost looked like a lover's embrace._

"_You don't know my brother," Dean answered his body trying to shrink away from her and pushing even farther back upon the broken bone piercing his insides. A pained expression crossed his face but he couldn't stomach her touch upon any part of him._

"_I think I know him more than you can ever imagine," she purred placing her lips right up against his ear. "He doesn't need you, Dean. Not like you need him. You gave up your life because you couldn't bear to continue on without him. But he can survive without you and he will." With that her nails began to dig into his sides as blood flowed freely from the open wounds around her fingers and a bloodcurdling scream escaped his brother's lips. _

_Sam wanted to scream out in the pain and fear he knew his brother was feeling right along with him, but before a sound could leave his lips a voice came from right next to his ear. "This is the first time I bled him out. The first is always the best as you watch the life drain from their eyes and they choke on their own blood."_

_Sam swung around and reached out wrapping his hands around her throat forcing her down onto the bone and blood covered ground. "I will kill you a thousand times over for this, you Bitch."_

_She sunk into the human debris surrounding them as he collapsed on top of her never letting go of that pale throat feeling it crush below his fingertips but just as quickly as he had subdued her she just vanished from his grip and he heard her voice ripple through the room. "Kill me as many times as you like in your dreams, Sammy, but it will never take away what I did to your brother. Watch if you can!"_

_Sam screamed out in utter rage at his lost revenge and his tear stained face turned to watch the vision of his brother's second demise._

_After his brother's screams subsided she pulled her hands free of his insides and backed a few inches away watching the life seeping from his features. Her head tilted to one side and a small smile touched her lips as she leaned in placing what looked like a chaste kiss upon his lips. "Was it as good for you as it was me, Dean?" she whispered and then just disappeared leaving his limp form there before his brother's eyes._

_Sam couldn't stop his forward motion as he crawled over next to his brother. He remained on the ground staring up into his brother's dead eyes wanting so badly to forget everything he had just seen. His hands reached out in a futile effort to touch Dean's unmoving form but as before they just sunk through the shadowy shape and then on through the bone mound behind him until landing on the more substantial floor below._

_His head sunk to the solid surface as sobs wracked his body and when he next opened his eyes his face was pressed against the cold white tile of hospital room that his dream had started in. But it no longer mattered to Sam where he was, whether in his own dream world or inside Lilith's memories it didn't matter. Nothing could matter after what he'd just seen. She had been right, nothing he could ever do would take back what had been done to his brother, what Dean had endured for him. He let his body slump to the side as he curled into himself just staring ahead but not seeing the room surrounding him. The only sight that plagued his mind was that of his brother's dead eyes staring back at him from moments before._

* * *

As his eyes flew open he was shocked to see the bright sunlight streaming through the windows. After the dark and dreary world of dream that he'd just left it was not at all what he had expected, and his head swiveled immediately catching the worried look on his brother's face and after several seconds had gone by he could actually hear his brother's words. "Sam, what the hell. What's wrong?"

Sam's face turned as he stared in shock at the relatively calm and normal world surrounding the Impala. They were parked on the side of the road and the area around them seemed to be deserted. To the left there was open field sporting some crop but hell if Sam actually cared what it was. Then to his right there was a thick line of trees just a few feet from his car door.

"Sam, answer me. You're scaring me, dude. You were sobbing. What's going on in that freakish head of yours?" Dean barked more in concern than anger.

Sam knew that he could never tell Dean what he'd seen. There was never anyway that his brother would be able to handle him seeing that. So his mouth stayed clamped shut as he reached up and wiped the fresh tears from his face. He didn't speak. He just shook his head and then stared straight forward in hopes that his brother would just take the hint and go.

But Dean was not even slightly going to consider letting this slide. He reached a hand across the open space between them and rested it lightly on his brother's arm. "Common, Sammy, I let the last one slide because you didn't want to talk but this time I just can't. What are you dreaming about?" His voice came out so soft and understanding and the sound of it just broke Sam's heart even more. How could his brother sit back so calmly trying to comfort him after everything he had gone through? Sam wanted to scream and throw things or sink into unconscious oblivion just because he had seen what had been done. He just couldn't understand how his brother had faced it all and not came out of it completely damaged.

He glanced down at Dean's hand on his arm and his eyes closed as flashes of blood, bone, and flesh ran across his tear soaked vision. A small whimper left his lips unbidden and he yanked his arm from Dean's and pushed roughly on the door fumbling with the latch trying to escape. It took three tries to get it open but once he did his long legs flew out the door and it didn't matter how much his ribs still hurt he was out and moving away from the car and into the woods. It didn't matter where he was going just as long as he was getting away from the memories of his dream, as if he could physically leave them behind.

At first Dean had been shocked to see his brother bolt from the Impala but the surprise wore off and he was out the door and following behind as fast as he could. "Sam, Sam! Sammy, stop," he called desperately his voice filled with fear for his brother.

But Sam couldn't stop. He kept running even as tree branches roughly tore at his skin and tried to deflect him from the wild path he was making through the undergrowth. But it wasn't long before he was brought up short and realized he couldn't go any farther. He had broken through the woods edge and was faced with a vast lake stretched out before him and the only way he could continue would be by swimming. He could have. He was a strong swimmer but at the moment all his mind registered was that there were a barrier in front of him that kept him from continuing.

By the time Dean broke through the vegetation himself Sam had slumped boneless to the ground with his arms wrapped around his legs and his face buried in the denim material covering knees. Sobs racked his body and he rocked back and forth every so often making hitching noises in the back of his throat.

Dean's mind was automatically drawn back to a time when his little brother was still a child and his tears came easier. Sam had always worn his heart on his sleeve and it didn't take very much for that heart to be hurt by angry words from their father or horrible taunts by bullies living in the towns they stopped briefly in. Dean had always tried to protect Sammy from getting hurt but it was sometimes so hard to do.

And as his mind was brought back to the present by the painful sounds his brother was making his first instinct was the same as it always was when he'd see Sammy like that. He dropped down to the ground on his knees next to his brother and wrapped his arms around him whispering words of comfort hoping to stop the pain in any way he could. "Shhh… Sammy. It's okay. Whatever it is, I'll take care of it. Please, Sam, it'll be alright, I promise."

Sam had almost pushed his brother away when he'd wrapped his arms around him but the sound of his voice stopped him and instead he reached up and clung to him. It had been such a long time since Dean had spoken to him like that. He had hugged Sam and tried to comfort him after that first dream but it wasn't the same. This was his brother from when they were growing up. The Dean that still considered him a small child who he would protect with his last breath. Not the Dean who understood that he was a man and would sometimes let him face his own battles, knowing that it was all a part of growing up. But at that moment this was the Dean that Sam needed. He didn't want to think about what he'd seen. He wanted Dean to take it away so he wouldn't have to believe what had happened.

They stayed like that for several long moments as Dean held him gently rubbing circles on his brother's back and whispering comforting nonsense that neither of them would remember once their minds were back in the hear and now but it was enough, enough to calm Sam's racing heart rate, enough to bring his breathing to a normal rhythm and enough to assure Dean that his brother wasn't going to completely fall apart on him. He had held Sam together before when they were children and this time would be no different than any of those other times.

Once Sam had let go of his brother's arms and sniffed a few times using his shirt sleeve to dry his eyes Dean had reluctantly let go of him and sat down next to him but facing in the opposite direction so he could look at Sam. He sat Indian style and one of his knees rested against Sam's leg not yet willing to lose the physical connection between them. His hand also rested on Sam's knee ready to cling to him if he saw Sam was gonna break again. "Sam, I need to know what's going on with you. Please, just tell me."

In the few moments that Sam had been sitting by the shore before Dean had found him, he'd had time to run several thoughts through his head. Thoughts that he had always pushed away before, knowing how Dean would have reacted. But he couldn't push them away anymore. Not after everything that he'd seen. "Dad was right about me, Dean."

Dean blinked in confusion hearing that. For a minute he zeroed in on the whole 'save him or kill him' conversation and he could feel anger rising inside him. He thought they had already worked through that, but Sam's voice interrupted him stilling his tongue. "He always said I was a screw up. That I could mess anything up without even trying. It always made me so angry when he said that but now I realize he was completely right."

"What the hell are you saying, Sam? You are not a screw up," Dean answered in a little bit stronger voice than he'd intended his hand painfully squeezing Sam's knee where it rested.

Sam didn't complain about the pain in his knee. He knew it was a lot less than he deserved. "Yes I am, Dean. I've screwed everything up since the minute you came to get me back at college. I can't do anything right."

"You know that's bullshit, Sammy. Don't even say it," Dean argued not having any clue why his brother would suddenly start to doubt himself so much.

"Is it? How many times have you had to come save me? How many times have I just up and disappeared on you? How many times have you had to sacrifice something of yourself for me?" Sam spat out in self-disgust.

"Sammy, that's my job. You know that. That's what I'm supposed to do," Dean argued back slipping into the same old arguments he had used so many times when Sam had complained about everything Dean was willing to give up for him.

"Yeah well, I told you that I had a job too. The only difference is that you succeeded in yours while I failed." Sam couldn't stand all of this being in his head anymore. He had to force it out. Get rid of it before it overwhelmed him but then his voice grew very quiet as he continued. "I promised you, Dean, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't do it. I couldn't save you, and to make matters worse I gave up. I stopped looking for you."

Dean sucked in his breath hard on that statement. He knew that Sam would more than likely feel guilty for everything, but somehow in the months since he'd been back he had let himself believe that Sam had accepted it and moved on. He should have known better. Sam didn't just accept anything. He worried, fretted, and mulled over things until they ate him up inside. "Sam, you did everything you could. I don't blame you for going on with your life."

"If you could call that going on. I wasn't living, Dean, just surviving. But that doesn't change the facts. I failed you. But you wouldn't have failed, Dean. If our positions had been reversed, you would have succeeded in saving me. You would have found a way," came the soft reply and he was positive that no matter what his brother had to do, Dean would have found a way. "Sometimes I think you'd have been better off if you'd never came and got me four years ago. You should have left me at school."

Dean swallowed hard and could feel tears pricking the corners of his own eyes. Sam knew that his leaving for college had always been a sore subject with Dean but how could he know that Dean had always considered the day he went and retrieved his brother from school as the best thing he had ever done. "Sam, don't say that. Please don't. I don't want to even think about what life would have been like if I hadn't showed up that night. And besides if I'd have left you in school the demon would have killed you or worse."

"Maybe that would have been better," Sam answered staring out over the lake trying not to meet his brother's eyes.

A low growl left his brother's lips and Sam knew he was treading on ground his brother wasn't gonna allow. "Listen up, and you listen good. You may be my little brother but I will kick your ass if I have to. You are not going down that road, Sammy. I've fought too hard for this family to listen to you tell me that it was a mistake. It was not a mistake and even after everything that's happened since then I'd do it all over again. I came and got you because I wanted my family back and that is more important to me than anything that's happened since."

Damn, Sam had not meant to upset Dean like that. He should have known that to Dean losing him would have been far worse than anything that had happened in hell. "I'm sorry, Dean. I didn't mean it to sound like that. I know what family means to you. It's just been eating away at me for a while now."

Sam wanted to just kick himself for causing his brother even more worry and pain. Dean needed family so much, much more than Sam ever thought he had himself. But now looking back on everything he was beginning to realize that he needed his brother more than anyone else in the world. But he'd never told him that. Not once. He was always running away from his family. Going away to college to escape the life of a hunter and his Dad inadvertently hurting his brother, making him think that Sam just didn't give a damn about them anymore. Running off when he and Dean had that argument over Dad. That one had nearly cost Dean his life too and it had brought Meg into their lives also. She eventually had nearly killed Dean. Running off when Dean told him about his Dad's words in the hospital shortly before he died. Again that had landed Dean in hot water with Gordon. Even running away from Bobby after Dean's death. If he hadn't turned himself into a cold, calculating, demon hunter he might not have ever rejected Dean when he came back. Sam couldn't deny just how much he knew that had hurt his brother. It seemed like every time Sam took off or shut himself off from those he loved that Dean ended up paying for it and that would have to stop and Dean needed to know the truth, not the lies that Lilith had told him. "Dean, I know I've never really told you, but you and Dad, and even Bobby, you all have meant everything to me. Even back when I took off for college a part of me still would have rather been with you. I still needed my big brother, even if I was being a stupid jerk."

Dean was surprised to hear that after telling his brother that he would kick his ass if he had to but it still felt good to hear it, even if he didn't let Sam know that. "Yeah, you were a stupid jerk," he said with a cocky smirk.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Dean, I'm trying to be serious here. Dad needed you and I needed you. I still do and I always will. Heck even Bobby has a soft spot for your wisecracking ass."

Dean gave him a real smile, not a smirk but a real honest to goodness 'everything's gonna be alright' Dean smile. "Thanks, Sam, but I still want to know what brought all this on. I want to know what that nightmare was about and the one you had back at Bobby's."

The smile that had lit Sam's face for a moment faded as he realized that Dean wasn't gonna back off on it this time. He still couldn't tell Dean what he'd seen. Dean would feel demoralized and degraded knowing that Sam had seen all that and that would lead to another rift between them. He didn't want any more rifts. So he did the only thing he thought he could do. He lied. "Just my mind reliving bad memories, Dean. You going to hell and me not able to do anything to stop it. Not being able to help you or rescue you."

Dean nodded accepting that. He knew those feelings would have to work themselves out somehow. "Sam, you gotta stop living in the past. There was nothing you could have done and if you remember right, I wasn't exactly making things easy on you either. I think during that year beforehand I spent half my time running from the reality of what was coming and the other half barreling right towards it daring it to take me. Neither way worked out very well for me as I recall."

"No probably not," Sam had to agree. They both sat in silence for a moment or so as Sam gazed back out over the water. He shook his head wondering just where exactly he had thought he was running to when he'd headed this way. And damn if that wasn't running from his brother again. No more, he vowed. But then something else surfaced in his mind. "Dean, you want to tell me why you've been acting all hunt obsessed for the last month or so?" He figured that heck while they were talking he might at least try to figure out what was up with his brother too.

Dean looked away from Sam not wanting to meet his eyes. He'd already berated himself for that half the night. He really wasn't sure he could handle it from Sam too. "I guess I didn't realize just how bad I was getting, Sam. We were doing good, killing more demons than ever before. It just started to become something I wanted more and more. Maybe a little revenge for my time down there. I'm sorry I put you in danger though. That was really stupid of me."

Sam reached out squeezing his brother's hand with that. "Hey, don't worry about me. I'm fine. But you've seriously started scaring me recently. You remind me of Dad, or god forbid of me while you were gone and what's really freaky is that sometimes I just don't understand how you do it. It's almost as if you can pick out demons from thin air that I'd never have recognized on my own with all the research in the world."

Dean couldn't help the tiny flinch at hearing his brother's last words. He had really hoped that Sam wouldn't catch on. It wasn't his idea of something he wanted to admit to his brother.

Sam had caught that flinch and his eyebrow's rose in question but when Dean didn't respond at all his eyes widened and he became even more suspicious. "Dean, what aren't you telling me?"

Dean shook his head but didn't face Sammy as he looked down at the ground before himself.

"Oh no you don't. You want to know what I'm thinking and I spill my heart out to you. Now it's your turn. What are you hiding from me?" Sam demanded seeing his brother's refusal to speak.

Dean really didn't want to tell him. He had tried so hard to hide it. What would Sam think of him when he knew? Would it scare him like Dean had been scared when Sam started having visions? But he knew there was no way his brother was gonna let it drop now. "Sam… I didn't want you to worry about me more. I know how hard it was when you started having visions. I just didn't want you to worry because something freaky was going on with me," Dean tried to explain.

"And what exactly is this something freaky, Dean?" Sam asked cautiously trying not to let himself panic.

Dean bit his lip and looked out into the woods still not looking at his brother but Sam had yet to let go of his hand and he knew his brother would offer him support no matter what. "You remember a few hours before the hounds came for me, and I killed that demon? You were so amazed because I saw what it really looked like."

Sam frowned as events started to fall into place inside his mind. Dean knowing that bartender was a demon when there had been no signs and many more since then. "Dean, is that happening again?"

"No, no, not exactly," he rushed to assure Sam. "It's just that every so often I'll catch something out of the corner of my eye. Just a glimpse of something not right. If I concentrate really hard on someone it'll sometimes come to me easier but it can take a while too."

Sam swallowed hard, not exactly sure what to think of this. "Dean, that's…" His voice faltered. He didn't know what to say and the tone finally brought Dean's gaze back to his.

Dean shook his head his mouth curling up in a scowl. "See that's why I didn't want to tell you. I didn't want you to get all worked up over this." He pulled his hand from Sam's and stood quickly starting back towards the woods.

Sam hadn't meant to upset his brother yet again. That was beginning to be a bad habit, he realized, so he stood quickly and followed his brother going faster hoping his longer legs and larger size would push him through the woods better and allow him to reach Dean. "Dean, wait," he called seeing the back of his brother's head but Dean was moving a lot faster than he thought he would be able to.

Soon he found himself tumbling back out of the woods about ten paces in front of the Impala. Dean was at the back searching through the trunk for something and Sam walked over to join him. "Dean, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to sound so…"

"What, like I'm some sort of freak?" Dean asked his voice roughed from the emotions seething through him.

"Dean… Dean, listen to me," Sam called in an exasperated tone. He reached out grabbing his brother's shoulder trying to pull him around.

After giving up the effort of not looking up at Sam, Dean finally turned to face him.

"Dean, do you know how much you sound like me after I got back into hunting? What did you tell me after that skin changer thing in St. Louis?" Sam asked trying to make a point.

Dean thought back and had to smile at the memory. "That you were a freak."

"And?" Sam questioned when he didn't continue.

"That I was a freak too, so I was right there with you all the way," Dean answered smirking slightly. "What a pair we make huh, Sammy?"

Sam nodded sighing slightly. "But always together. That's what counts."

Dean agreed with him nodding himself. "Yeah." Then he turned back to searching through the trunk again.

"Dude, what are you looking for?" Sam asked seeing his brother getting slightly flustered.

"The first aid kit," he answered looking back to Sam. "Don't think that I forgot you got hurt last night. I gotta to take care of my little brother, Sammy."

Sam snorted slightly and smiled. "It's in the back seat."

Dean glanced forward and chuckled at himself slightly as he moved around Sam and towards the back seat.

Dean didn't hear Sam's next words. They were whispered and really weren't meant for his ears anyway. "Yeah, and I gotta take care of my big brother a little better too."

* * *

_A/N: Wow, am I in an angsty mood. I really enjoyed writing that chapter even if it did take forever to do so. So comments? Questions? Next chapter will be up as soon as I can._


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